E  TENTH 
COMMANDMENT 


A  Romance 


MARGUERITE 

LINTON 
GLENTWORTH 


THE   TENTH    COMMANDMENT 
A  Romance 


THE 

TENTH    COMMANDMENT 

a  Uomanec 


BY 

MARGUERITE  LINTON  GLENTWORTH 

AUTHOR  OF  "A  TWENTIETH  CENTURY  BOY" 


"  All  the  world's  a  stage,  and  all  the  men  and  women 
merely  players."  —  SHAKESPEARE. 


BOSTON 

LEE    AND    SHEPARD 
1902 


COPYRIGHT,  1902,  BY  LEE  AND  SHEPARD. 

ENTERED  AT  STATIONERS'  HALL,  LONDON. 

Published,  October,  1903. 


All  Rights  Reserved. 


THE  TENTH  COMMANDMENT. 


Norfoooti  $r«s 

J.  8.  Chuhing  &  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith 
Norwood  Mass.  U.S.A. 


2C0  tfjc  JHemorg  of 


Yet  love  will  dream,  and  faith  will  trust, 
Since  He  who  knows  our  needs  is  just, 
That  somehow,  somewhere,  meet  we  must. 


—  WHITTIER. 


2135006 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  A  WORD  OF  YESTERDAY                                  i 

II.    DRIFTING 6 

III.  ON  THE  SHORE  OF  BOHEMIA  16 

IV.  THE  TURN  OF  THE  TIDE  ....      24 
V.  AN  ALIEN  IN  BOHEMIA      ....      33 

VI.    BREAKERS  AHEAD 41 

VII.  THE  STUDIO  OF  THE  BARATTONIS     .        .      46 

VIII.      SlGNOR    LONSPETTI 54 

IX.  HAD  FATE  DECREED          ....      60 

X.  THE  PAINTER-IN- LITTLE     ....      70 

XI.    CHARITY 78 

XII.    MADAME  MARIE 84 

XIII.  STARLIGHT  ON  SHORE        ....      97 

XIV.  <l'Tis  BUT  REMEMBRANCE"        .        .        .    106 
XV.  A  PLEA  FOR  THE  FUTURE         .        .        -113 

XVI.  ACROSS  THE  OCEAN  FERRY  .  .  .124 

XVII.  A  SUMMER  EVENING 129 

XVIII.  A  RECOGNITION 135 

XIX.  TEMPEST  TOSSED 143 

XX.  IN  THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  SHADOW  .  .154 


viii  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGK 

XXI.  THE  SWING  OF  THE  PENDULUM      .        .     159 

XXII.  WHEN  ANGELS  ARE  VEILED                   .     166 

XXIII.  CHAINS  THAT  GALL         .        .        .        -173 

XXIV.  THE  DIE  HAS  BEEN  CAST        .        .        .185 

XXV.  HOUSES  OF  CARDS    .        .        .        .        .195 

XXVI.  THE  TENTH  COMMANDMENT   .        .        .205 
XXVII.  MR.  COURTNEY  IN  LONDON     .        .        .    216 

XXVIII.    EBB  TIDE 221 

XXIX.  LIKE  A  SIGNAL  IN  THE  NIGHT       .        .    226 

XXX.    ROSEMARY 241 

XXXI.    CROSSING  THE  BAR 251 

XXXII.  THE  HARBOUR  ENTRANCE      .        .        .    258 

XXXIII.  WHEN  ONLY  THE  ANGELS  KNOW    .        .    267 

XXXIV.  THE  HEART  OF  CONSUELO      .        .        -275 
XXXV.  LONSPETTI'S  HOUR  .        .        .        .        .    284 

XXXVI.    THE  TRUMP  CARD 296 

XXXVII.  A  SHIP  HAS  PUT  TO  SEA        .        .        .301 

XXXVIII.  THE  SEAL  OF  SILENCE   ....    306 

XXXIX.  AN  UNBIDDEN  GUEST      .        .        .        -315 

XL.  A  MEETING  AND  A  PARTING  .        .        .    325 

XLI.  IN  SIGHT  OF  SHORE        ....    336 

XLII.    UNTIL  DEATH 344 


THE  TENTH  COMMANDMENT 

CHAPTER   I 
A  WORD   OF   YESTERDAY 
"  All  the  world's  a  stage  ..." 

THE  curtain  came  slowly  down  for  the  sixth 
time  that  evening  .  .  .  and  then  slowly  ascended 
again.  Edythe  Barattoni  was  bidding  farewell  to 
the  stage.  As  many  times  the  young  actress  had 
bowed  her  acknowledgments.  The  farewell  of 
the  public  was  full  of  regret  The  orchestra 
played  like  one  enchanted.  The  night  seemed 
reluctant  to  be  gone.  But  it  was  almost  over  now, 
and  what  a  farewell  night  it  had  been  from  the 
rise  to  the  last  fall  of  the  curtain.  Although  the 
young  actress  had  been  before  the  public  but  a 
few  seasons,  her  every  effort  had  been  crowned 
with  success.  Like  Byron  before  her,  she  awoke 
the  morning  after  her  debut  to  find  herself 
famous.  She  was  beautiful ;  she  was  talented. 
If  there  was  any  nervousness  in  her  composition 
she  forgot  it  in  the  spirit  of  the  part  she  was  play- 


2  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

ing.  That  she  was  a  genius,  none  doubted,  and 
to-night  she  was  casting  aside  all  honours,  and 
retiring  ...  to  marry. 

And  what  an  audience  this  last  one  had  been ! 
The  drawing-rooms  of  Fifth  Avenue,  Bohemia, 
the  Bench,  and  the  Bar  were  represented  like  one 
great  family.  It  was  a  memorable  night  in  the 
history  of  the  profession. 

Two  hours  before  the  doors  were  opened,  there 
was  a  crowd  extending  a  block  or  more  waiting 
for  admission.  Not  a  seat  was  to  be  had  at  the 
box  office,  and  when  the  doors  were  finally 
opened,  the  crush  was  so  great  that  it  was  almost 
nine  o'clock  before  those  holding  tickets  for  the 
boxes  and  stalls  could  be  seated.  Even  the  car- 
riages were  unable  to  come  up  to  the  theatre,  and 
deposited  their  richly  gowned  occupants  several 
doors  from  the  entrance.  Geoffrey  Merrall  was 
silently  proud  of  it  all,  as  he  sat  in  the  theatre 
that  night  watching  the  great  audience  file  in,  and 
yet  he  wished  it  were  all  over. 

Since  the  announcement  of  his  engagement  to 
her  a  few  weeks  since,  the  papers  had  exploited 
them  as  their  most  interesting  subjects.  The 
engagement  of  one  of  the  wealthiest  and  most 
aristocratic  young  men  in  New  York  society  to 


A  WORD   OF   YESTERDAY  3 

the  popular  young  actress  was  a  subject  that 
linked  Bohemia  and  the  "  four  hundred  "  together. 
On  the  announcement  of  her  engagement,  Miss 
Barattoni  had  likewise  announced  an  early  retire- 
ment from  the  stage. 

And  now  the  night  had  come,  and  was  over. 
The  last  words  of  the  play  had  been  said,  and 
the  young  actress,  calmer  than  her  audience, 
had  passed  from  the  footlights.  The  play  had 
progressed  well  considering  the  curtain  calls  de- 
manded after  each  act.  Now  that  it  was  over,  it 
seemed  as  if  there  were  to  be  no  end  of  them. 
The  enthusiasm  of  the  evening  had  developed  into 
a  triumphant  ovation.  The  greater  part  of  the 
audience  was  standing  when  Edythe  Barattoni  ap- 
peared at  the  final  curtain  call,  and  her  face 
showed  plainly  that  she  was  deeply  affected.  The 
orchestra  was  playing  "  Dixie "  in  honour  of  her 
native  state,  Kentucky.  She  lingered  the  last 
time  a  moment  longer,  as  if  she,  too,  were  reluc- 
tant to  say  good-by ;  then  she  smiled  and  was  gone. 

There  were  tears  in  her  eyes,  as  the  public  last 
saw  her.  Geoffrey  Merrall  noticed  them  and  was 
hurt  at  her  visible  reluctance  to  retire.  And  the 
woman  was  thinking,  "  If  I  only  knew  that  this 
could  last  forever." 


4  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

She  paused  for  a  moment  on  the  threshold  of 
her  dressing-room.  She  could  still  hear  the 
orchestra  above  the  din  and  confusion  about  her. 
Stage  hands  were  hoisting  the  scenery  back  into 
place,  call-boys  with  cards  and  flowers  were  hurry- 
ing to  and  fro ;  little  groups  of  actresses  lingered 
about  half-open  doors.  This  was  the  life  that 
was  a  part  of  her;  the  life  that  she  loved.  In 
the  excitement  that  had  attended  the  prepara- 
tion for  her  farewell  to  the  stage  she  had  not 
realized  until  now  what  she  was  giving  up. 
There  is  novelty,  a  glamour,  connected  with  the 
royal  Game  of  Chance.  As  she  pushed  the  door 
of  her  dressing-room  open,  the  fragrance  of  the 
flowers  stifled  her  for  the  moment.  There  were 
the  trophies  of  her  last  appearance  — 

In  her  hand  she  held  others.  Her  maid  came 
forward  as  she  entered,  and  took  them  from  her. 
She  had  hardly  done  so,  when  a  call-boy  burdened 
down  with  more  flowers  knocked  at  the  door,  left 
them,  and  hurried  away  again. 

Half  an  hour  later  the  crowd  about  the  stage 
door  were  rewarded  by  seeing  a  long-watched  door 
flung  recklessly  open,  a  carriage  come  quickly  to 
the  curb,  and  in  the  sudden  glare  of  a  calcium 
light  which  blinded  them  for  the  moment,  they 


A  WORD   OF   YESTERDAY  5 

saw  a  woman  wrapped  in  a  long  white  opera 
cloak  pass  quickly  out,  followed  by  Mr.  Merrall 
and  a  maid,  and  before  they  had  had  time  to 
realize  who  they  were,  they  had  stepped  into  the 
carriage  and  were  being  driven  rapidly  away. 


CHAPTER   II 
DRIFTING 

IT  was  now  nine  years  since  Geoffrey  Merrall 
had  married  Edythe  Barattoni. 

It  would  prove  an  unhappy  marriage,  the 
world  said ;  but  then  the  world  is  old  and 
cynical,  and  with  extreme  youth  or  infirmity  we 
forgive  much. 

There  had  been  some  opposition  on  Mr.  Mer- 
rall's  side  of  the  family,  and  only  after  their 
first  child  —  a  boy  —  was  born,  did  his  proud 
widowed  mother  enter  their  home. 

Edythe  was  like  a  flower  transplanted  from 
the  world  called  Bohemia.  She  was  as  beautiful 
as  a  Greek  statue.  Dame  Fortune  had  bestowed 
upon  her  every  charm ;  had  endowed  her  with 
unusual  talents.  She  had  everything  in  the 
world  to  make  her  happy,  and  yet  she  was 
not  so. 

Four  children  had  been  born  to  them,  —  three 
boys  and  a  girl.  The  last  child,  a  girl,  was  the 

6 


DRIFTING  7 

only  thing  that  had  brought  Edythe  a  moment's 
happiness,  and  when  death  took  it  from  her, 
Mr.  Men-all's  last  ray  of  hope  was  gone.  She 
would  sit  in  her  studio  day  after  day,  cherish- 
ing a  little  portrait  of  a  six-months-old  baby 
girl.  Callers  were  turned  away  on  the  plea 
that  she  was  ill;  her  husband's  flowers  were 
cast  aside,  as  might  be  withered  weeds.  When 
she  was  better,  she  would  drive  up  to  her  old 
home  in  Eighty-sixth  Street  on  pleasant  after- 
noons. The  studio  was  still  there,  for  her  sisters 
were  both  artists,  though  only  one  of  the  brush. 
Sometimes  she  didn't  return  when  night  came. 
She  was  happier  there.  She  liked  to  welcome 
the  old  friends,  and  hear  of  their  progress  in 
the  kindred  arts.  She  never  met  there  any 
of  the  wealthy  society  people  that  she  had  had 
to  tolerate  in  her  married  life;  but,  rather, 
sculptors,  musicians,  artists,  authors,  and  actors, 
the  class  that  is  largely  composed  of  the  Bohe- 
mian element,  which,  in  order  to  live  in  this 
hand-to-hand  world,  must  possess  more  than  an 
ordinary  brilliancy  of  intellect" 

Edythe's  visits  to  the  studio  were  welcomed 
most  heartily,  and  so  heartfelt  was  the  cordiality 
from  every  one  that  it  only  rendered  more  bitter 


8  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

the  home  visits  that  she  was  loath  to  make. 
Sometimes  a  week  passed  away  before  she  would 
consent  to  return,  and  then  only  for  a  day  or  two, 
and  she  was  back  again.  Mr.  Men-all's  pleadings 
with  her  were  of  no  avail.  He  was  a  splendid 
young  man ;  he  had  made  her  an  ideal  husband. 
Never  once  had  he  frowned  upon  her  wildest 
wish.  He  had  never  denied  her  anything,  and 
yet  she  was  not  happy.  For  nine  years  she 
had  been  like  a  nightingale,  beating  at  the 
bars  of  a  gilded  cage. 

When,  after  the  child  Dorothy's  death,  she 
had  refused  to  attend  church,  it  did  not  keep 
Mr.  Merrall  and  his  three  boys  away  from  a 
Sunday  morning  service.  And  they  were  little 
fellows :  the  eldest,  Lionel,  was  but  eight,  Doug- 
las six,  and  Maurice  four.  They  seemed  very 
small  to  occupy  the  large  pew  up  in  front, 
where  every  Sunday  they  were  seen  alone  with 
their  father.  Mr.  Merrall  was  very  proud  of 
them.  They  were  all  three  strong,  healthy  little 
fellows.  Lionel  was  like  his  father,  as  straight 
as  a  young  Indian,  with  dark  hair  and  eyes 
and  a  fair  complexion ;  Douglas  was  a  little  like 
his  brother,  only  his  hair  was  curlier  and  it  was 
not  quite  so  dark.  It  was  in  the  baby's  face 


DRIFTING  9 

that  the  beauty  of  the  mother  was  seen.  Maurice 
might  have  been  a  girl,  with  his  fairylike  face. 
No  hair  ever  matched  the  sun  better  than  his 
did.  He  had  unusually  large,  dark  eyes,  long, 
black  lashes,  and  his  mother's  faultless  pink 
and  white  complexion.  He  always  wore,  too, 
the  most  fascinating  of  clothes  —  clothes  that 
contrasted  well  with  the  wavy  curls  that  sur- 
rounded the  baby  face,  like  the  frame  of  a 
miniature.  Their  mother  never  attended  to  their 
dressing.  She  took  no  interest  in  them  appar- 
ently. Mrs.  Merrall,  Sr.,  generally  attended  to 
the  children's  shopping ;  and  as  they  were  dressed 
by  a  London  costumer,  it  is  needless  to  add 
that  they  were  well  dressed.  Edythe  rarely 
gave  a  suggestion.  She  sometimes  said  that  too 
much  money  was  spent  on  their  clothes,  but 
never  once  suggested  any  change.  Mrs.  Merrall, 
Sr.,  was  devoted  to  her  grandchildren,  and  filled 
to  some  extent  the  mother's  place  in  their 
home.  Edythe  was  not  interested  in  the  house; 
the  servants  might  give  nightly  balls,  and  she 
would  not  be  the  wiser.  She  was  a  brilliant 
woman,  an  actress  who  at  the  time  of  her  re- 
tirement was  destined  to  be  a  star  of  the  first 
magnitude.  She  had  married  when  every  wish 


10  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

of  her  heart  was  within  her  reach.  No  actress 
of  years  had  had  such  audiences  as  Edythe 
Barattoni.  Night  after  night  the  same  faces 
were  in  line  at  the  box  office.  Her  Juliet  was 
said  to  be  the  woman  Shakespeare  must  have 
dreamed  of  when  he  wrote  his  great  love  tragedy. 
No  one  so  beautiful  as  she  had  for  many  years 
graced  the  mimic  stage.  And  then  she  could 
paint ;  her  genius  held  her  with  no  restrictions. 
She  was  a  favoured  child  of  art.  And  her  art 
was  her  great  interest;  to  excel  in  it  her  one 
ambition.  She  had  not  done  much  with  it  since 
her  marriage,  more  than  to  paint  a  fancy  head 
or  landscape  for  her  own  amusement.  The  studio 
was  full  of  them,  everywhere  about  her  home 
hung  pictures  of  her  own  making.  On  this  par- 
ticular afternoon  she  was  engaged  on  a  child's 
head.  It  appeared  to  the  casual  observer  a 
more  mature  likeness  of  her  baby  girl  —  what  it 
would  have  been  in  life.  The  studio  windows 
were  open,  the  curtains  fluttered  gently  in  and 
out.  There  was  a  sweet  perfume  of  white  violets 
in  the  room  —  an  utter  stillness  was  everywhere. 
Presently  a  child's  step  was  heard,  and  Maurice, 
breathless,  his  hat  gone  and  dress  in  tatters, 
came  rushing  into  the  room. 


DRIFTING  1 1 

"  Mamma,"  he  cried,  "  ba'  dog ! "  and  he 
dragged  her  to  him.  "Maurice  hurted,  baby 
dirl  for  you,  mamma,  turn ! " 

Another  moment  and  she  would  have  had  the 
child  in  her  arms.  He  had  such  an  appealing 
way  when  he  wanted  sympathy.  His  dress  was 
badly  torn,  and  he  kept  running  his  wee  fingers 
through  the  long  rents,  with  "See,  mamma,  ba' 
dog,  baby  dirl,  turn  !  " 

"  Have  you  been  hurt  ? "  she  said  at  last,  put- 
ting down  her  work  to  follow  him ;  but  her 
sister's  coming  prevented  it. 

"We're  going  to  have  a  little  music  to-night 
at  the  studio,"  she  said,  "  for  Jack's  here.  He 
wants  you  to  come  up.  It's  just  going  to  be 
a  little  family  affair,  with  a  few  friends,  that's 
all.  You  haven't  been  up  for  a  week,  Edythe; 
what's  been  the  trouble  ? " 

The  child  was  still  clinging  to  her  dress. 
"  Turn,  mamma,  ba'  dog,  baby  dirl,"  he  pleaded ; 
but  she  loosened  his  grasp. 

"Go  down  and  see  the  dog,"  she  said,  insinu- 
atingly. "  Nice  dog,  go  down  and  see  it." 

"It  hurted  me,"  he  cried;   "it's  a  ba'  dog." 

She  left  him  on  the  staircase,  and  hurrying  into 
the  studio  closed  the  door. 


12  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

"When  did  Jack  return  ?  "  she  asked,  "and  how 
are  father  and  mother?  I  haven't  heard  from 
them  for  months." 

"  Very  well,  indeed ;  Jack  said  that  you  didn't 
write  while  he  was  there,  but  won't  you  come 
up  to-night,  Edythe  ?  You  are  an  object  of  pity 
here.  I  never  saw  any  one  look  so  unhappy, 
and  we  are  going  to  have  a  real  good,  old- 
fashioned  time.  I  know  you'd  enjoy  it." 

"  I  am  sure  I  should,"  she  said  at  last ;  "  I 
always  like  it  there,  but,  O  Dorothy,  Geoffrey 
is  so  opposed  to  my  going  there.  I  live  here 
like  a  cat  driven  from  pillar  to  post." 

"You  never  used  to,  Edythe,"  said  her  sister, 
taking  a  long  look  at  herself  in  the  large  mirror. 
"  I  know  I'm  glad  I'm  not  married.  Well,  I'm 
off ;  shall  we  expect  you  to-night  or  not,  dear  ? 
There's  that  youngest  of  yours  bewailing  his  fate 
in  the  lower  hall.  Where's  his  nurse  ?  "  she  added 
as  she  opened  the  door.  "  I  should  think  he 
would  kill  any  inspirations  you  might  have "  — 
that  apologizingly — "good-by." 

Edythe  paused  for  a  moment  before  she  an- 
swered, and  then  she  said,  "  Yes,  expect  me ;  this 
life  here  cannot  go  on  forever." 

She  went  back  into  the  room,  and  taking  the 


DRIFTING  13 

violets  from  the  stand  went  out  and  locked  the 
door. 

On  reaching  the  lower  staircase  her  husband 
met  her.  "  What  has  happened  to  our  baby  ? " 
he  said ;  "  his  clothes  are  stained  with  blood." 

"  The  baby  is  dead,"  Edythe  replied  slowly. 
"  She  is  where  no  harm  can  come  to  her." 

Mr.  Merrall  was  stung  with  her  cold,  indifferent 
reply.  The  child  Maurice  had  been  taken  into 
the  nursery ;  where  his  little  feet  had  been,  were 
stains  of  blood.  He  had  been  badly  bitten  by 
a  neighbour's  dog  while  attempting  to  move  a  baby 
which  had  been  left  for  a  moment  in  its  carriage 
by  the  nurse. 

"It  was  for  mamma,  papa,"  he  pleaded,  when 
the  little  wounds  were  being  dressed,  and  the 
soft  head  was  resting  on  the  father's  arm.  "  It 
was  a  baby  dirl,  papa,"  he  said,  "a  baby  dirl, 
and  it  had  no  home,  papa,  and  Maurice  took 
it." 

Poor  little  fellow !  he  fell  asleep  murmuring 
not  of  his  own  troubles,  but  of  others.  He  had 
been  severely  injured  by  the  dog,  his  tender  skin 
was  torn  in  several  places,  but  only  one  of  the 
wounds  seemed  serious. 

"The  child's   mother   had   better   remain  with 


14  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

him  during  the  night,"  said  the  physician.  "  A 
child  doesn't  take  readily  to  a  nurse ;  and  in  case 
he  should  be  delirious,  it  is  better  she  were  with 
him." 

Mr.  Merrall  was  standing  in  the  large  bay 
window  opposite  to  them ;  he  was  watching 
his  carriage  that  had  just  driven  away  from  his 
doors.  He  turned  and  faced  the  physician. 

"The  child  shall  be  well  cared  for,"  he  said; 
then  almost  involuntarily  he  added,  "  I  will  remain 
with  him;  for  if  death  comes,  it  is  better  he 
should  find  love  in  the  harness." 

Dr.  Elliott  was  mystified  by  Mr.  Merrall's 
last  words.  "  Love  hi  the  harness,"  he  repeated 
to  himself.  True,  he  had  not  seen  the  mother; 
where  was  she?  Did  she  not  care  for  her 
injured  boy?  All  these  thoughts  came  before 
his  puzzled  mind  as  he  left  the  room.  Was  the 
tide  turning,  as  the  world  prophesied  it  would, 
or  had  it  already  turned,  with  no  mark  as  yet 
on  the  outer  shore  ?  Then,  as  if  he  were 
recovering  his  lost  senses,  he  stepped  back  into 
the  room.  "I  almost  forgot  to  add,"  he  said 
kindly,  "  that  I  am  at  your  service  at  any  time ; 
but  I  hope  for  your  sake  that  I  may  say  good- 
by  until  morning." 


DRIFTING  15 

Mr.  Merrall  made  him  no  reply.  The  physician 
left  him  standing  by  the  child's  bedside,  speech- 
less and  entirely  overcome. 

And  on  the  Coast  of  Time  another  wreck  was 
seen  to  come  to  shore. 


CHAPTER   III 
ON  THE  SHORE  OF  BOHEMIA 

EDYTHE  rode  up  Broadway,  hardly  once  glanc- 
ing out  on  the  brilliantly  lighted  street.  There 
was  a  blockade  at  Fifty-sixth  Street,  and  the 
sudden  stop  of  the  carriage  caused  her  to  rouse 
herself.  She  raised  one  of  the  curtains  and 
glanced  out. 

"A  child  has  been  injured  by  the  cars,"  she 
heard  some  one  say,  "  a  newsboy,  not  ten  years 
old."  She  saw  his  fragile  little  body  as  it  lay 
almost  beside  her  in  the  street.  They  were 
waiting  for  an  ambulance  while  his  life-blood 
was  ebbing  away.  In  a  moment  her  carriage 
was  at  his  disposal.  The  crowd  gathered  around 
it  as  he  was  laid  in,  wrapped  in  the  luxurious 
opera  cloak  of  the  fair  stranger. 

"He  is  one  of  the  hand-to-mouth  world,"  she 
was  heard  to  say,  as  she  nestled  the  small  head 
on  her  knee,  and  gently  held  the  tired  little  hands, 
as  the  carriage  turned  through  into  Fifth  Avenue. 

16 


ON   THE   SHORE  OF   BOHEMIA  17 

•»» 

The  boy's  semi-conscious  eyes  were  upon  her 
face.  "  Yer  a  mother,  I  know,"  he  said,  "  or 
yer  wouldn't  let  me  have  this  'ere  cloak  around 
me." 

"We  are  both  Bohemians,"  she  said  softly, 
forgetting  her  own  injured  boy  in  her  thought 
for  this  one.  She  left  him  at  the  hospital  with 
express  orders  that  all  should  be  done  for  him 
with  no  regard  to  expense.  She  would  not  forget 
him,  were  her  last  words.  There  was  no  name  or 
address  left,  but  the  boy  remembered  she  had  told 
him  that  she  lived  in  Bohemia,  and  she  thought 
he  did ;  but  "  I  don't,"  he  said,  "  I  was  born  right 
'ere  in  New  York."  When  he  was  conscious  he 
would  question  the  nurse  as  to  Bohemia.  Was 
it  a  large  place  where  his  friend  lived  ?  and  no 
one,  not  even  the  kind  old  doctor,  could  shed 
any  more  light  on  the  subject  when  the  child 
himself  knew  more  of  Bohemia  than  they  did. 

It  was  late  when  Edythe  reached  the  studio.  It 
was  ablaze  with  light,  and  the  merry  sound  of  the 
dance  music  broke  the  stillness  of  her  heart. 
Without  on  the  sidewalk  several  small  waif  chil- 
dren were  keeping  time  with  their  feet,  glancing 
up  mischievously  at  the  beautiful  woman  as  she 
alighted.  Never  did  music  seem  more  inspiring. 


1 8  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

The  light  hearts  of  the  waifs  delighted  her,  and 
taking  out  a  well-filled  pocket-book  she  emptied 
every  coin  to  the  crowd,  and  left  them  as  the  gay 
scramble  began. 

Signor  Lonspetti  welcomed  her  on  the  staircase. 
"  I  have  been  waiting  for  you  for  hours,"  he  cried 
enthusiastically.  "  I  was  told  you  were  coming, 
and  my  delight  knew  no  bounds." 

"  It  is  always  pleasant  to  meet  an  old  friend, 
now  isn't  it  ? "  she  said,  giving  his  hand  a  warm 
clasp.  "  I  suppose  we  are  going  to  be  favoured 
with  some  of  your  compositions  to-night,  dear 
Signor.  Your  '  Twilight  Sonata '  I  have  never 
forgotten.  Do  you  remember  how  I  was  carried 
away  with  it  the  first  time  I  heard  it  ? " 

"As  if  but  yesterday,  dear  Mrs.  Merrall;  but 
come,  let  me  relieve  you  of  your  wraps  and  join 
the  others.  There  is  quite  a  company  here  to- 
night." 

In  a  few  moments  she  entered  the  studio.  Her 
sister  Clare  was  singing  a  most  attractive  love- 
song.  Ghleska,  her  brilliant  accompanist,  never 
played  before  a  more  enthralled  audience.  His 
fingers  never  gave  the  perfect  touch  of  to-night. 
Clare's  voice  had  swept  his  genius  beyond  recogni- 
tion. It  was  like  the  clear  voice  of  some  unseen 


ON   THE   SHORE   OF   BOHEMIA  19 

heavenly  warbler.  Clearer,  more  pathetically  the 
notes  rang  out,  then  dying  away  to  a  whisper  —  it 
was  over. 

Edythe  was  entranced.  The  past  was  all  for- 
gotten. She  looked  like  some  new  creature  stand- 
ing there  among  her  friends.  Her  brow  was  as 
clear  and  untroubled  as  a  child's.  Her  simple 
white  gown  clung  in  soft  folds  about  the  tall,  slen- 
der figure.  She  resembled  a  beautiful  Easter  lily 
—  a  symbol  of  the  resurrection. 

Edythe  was  at  home  again  in  the  old  studio. 
She  was  interested  in  the  sketch  of  Ghleska's 
hand,  which  her  sister  Dorothy  had  just  finished, 
and  was  considered  a  work  of  art.  More  than 
once  did  the  large  velvety  eyes  wander  over  the 
walls  of  the  large  studio,  and  what  a  vast  room  it 
was.  At  one  end  was  a  Steinway  grand,  almost 
hidden  in  its  place  to-night  with  flowers.  Over  it 
hung  a  portrait  in  life  size  of  Madame  Camille 
Marie,  the  great  tragedienne.  A  violin,  an  instru- 
ment that  might  have  made  her  famous,  was  in 
position  on  the  left  shoulder.  Her  chin  rested  on 
it  slightly.  The  other  hand  had  commenced  to 
draw  the  bow  across  the  strings.  Her  eyes  im- 
pelled silence  and  attention.  A  moment,  and  you 
remember  it  is  but  an  illusion  of  life,  something 


20 

that  can  be  when  youth  and  life  are  past.  Pictures 
were  in  every  space.  In  the  soft  light  you  noticed 
them  —  faces  of  loveliness  and  faces  of  pain.  Cos- 
tumes of  the  stage  were  draped  about  the  room ; 
portieres  were  everywhere.  On  the  floor  heavy 
Daghestan  and  Persian  rugs  made  the  footfalls 
noiseless.  Peace  was  reigning.  Several  recitations 
followed,  and  then  Signor  Lonspetti  followed  on 
the  violin  with  his  new  "Spring  Awakening."  It 
was  a  cry  for  the  dance.  Ghleska  charmed  the 
piano  into  unison,  and  the  others  cleared  the  rooms 
of  the  chairs  and  easels.  Edythe's  heart  had  burst 
the  chains  of  imprisonment.  At  the  wave  of  Herr 
Arditi's  baton  she  was  off  with  her  partner,  form- 
ing the  first  couple  in  the  "Artists'  Reel."  It 
was  bewildering.  The  short,  perfect  step  of  each 
dancer,  backward,  forward,  side  step  and  turn  ;  the 
Signer's  wonderful  violin  repeating  and  increasing 
its  pleading  for  light  hearts  and  happiness.  The 
dancers  would  never  have  wearied,  had  not  the 
Signor  discovered  that  he  was  human  and  that  the 
spring  had  awakened,  so  the  dance  passed  into 
a  remembrance,  and  supper  came  in  with  the 
morning. 

No  one,  not  even  Bessarde,  the  great  sculptor, 
guest  of  the  evening,  aroused  so  much  interest  and 


ON   THE   SHORE   OF   BOHEMIA  21 

admiration  as  the  beautiful  Edythe.  Lonspetti 
was  untiring  in  his  attentions  to  her,  she  ever 
ready  to  hear  of  his  progress  in  the  art  that  was  so 
dear  to  her. 

"  Oh,  I  wish  I  could  play  the  violin,"  she  would 
say  repeatedly ;  "  it  seems  like  a  fellow-being,  so  in 
sympathy  with  all  we  do." 

"  I  will  instruct  you,"  replied  the  master,  "  you 
shall  play  as  none  others  do  with  my  teaching. 
The  'Twilight  Sonata'  you  may  make  famous, 
something  that  I  cannot  do,  and  all  things  are 
possible." 

"  But  I  have  no  time  for  the  practice,"  she  said 
almost  sadly,  "my  own  work  needs  my  every 
thought" 

"  But  I  hear  you  do  so  little  of  it,  am  I  right  ?  " 
said  the  Signer.  "  I  remember  when  you  were 
destined  to  be  a  great  star,  when  the  papers  were 
full  of  you,  and  your  photographs  were  held  at  a 
premium.  Those  were  the  happy  days,  Mrs.  Mer- 
rall.  I  was  in  London  when  the  news  reached  me 
that  money  had  bought  the  jewel,  fame  and  all. 
The  world  saw  no  more  of  it.  The  owner  locked 
it  up  selfishly  in  his  palatial  home." 

Lonspetti  was  forgetting  himself.  He  paced 
nervously  up  and  down  the  long  studio,  forgetting 


22  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

that  every  word  was  piercing  deep  into  an  unhappy 
woman's  heart. 

"  Ah,  yes,  Mrs.  Merrall,"  he  thoughtlessly  con- 
tinued ;  "  you  know  my  whole  belief  is,  that  we 
might  as  well  have  a  good  time  out  of  life,  and 
make  the  most  of  it,  for  we  are  destined  to  be  a 
long  time  dead." 

Edythe  had  never  thought  of  it  before.  She 
had  forgotten  how  much  she  had  sacrificed  for 
money ;  for  wealth  that  had  brought  her  no  happi- 
ness. The  thought  of  it  was  passing  before  her  now 
like  a  horrible  dream.  She  would  break  the  fetters 
and  regain  the  loss  she  had  suffered.  Lonspetti 
had  said  all  things  were  possible ;  and  if  fame  had 
been  possible  to  possess  at  one  time,  it  would  be 
possible  again.  Lonspetti's  violin  was  echoing 
the  sad  strains  of  an  Italian  love-song  when  the 
guests  departed,  and  then  he  too  said  good  night, 
and  was  gone. 

"  Lonspetti  is  a  wonderful  musician,  is  he  not?  " 
said  Clare,  when  he  had  disappeared,  his  old  vio- 
lin hidden  beneath  the  cape  of  his  long  cloak. 
"  Ah,  wonderful  he  is,"  replied  Jack,  drawing  aside 
the  curtains  to  take  a  last  glimpse  of  him  as  he 
hurried  from  sight. 

Dorothy   was   busy   preparing    a    bed   for   her 


ON  THE   SHORE   OF   BOHEMIA  23 

brother  on  the  long  couch  in  the  studio,  apologiz- 
ing the  while  for  not  possessing  two  guest  cham- 
bers. Edythe  was  uncommonly  silent.  She  may 
have  noticed  that  the  carriage  had  not  been  sent 
for  her  in  case  she  should  care  to  return.  It 
always  was.  It  might  be  her  neglect  of  the  child, 
and  her  husband  was  angry  with  her,  or  Maurice 
might  be  worse  and  he  had  forgotten  her ;  but  in 
the  nine  years  of  unhappiness  and  misery,  he  had 
never  before  failed  in  that  courtesy.  She  wan- 
dered into  an  outer  room  and  threw  herself  on  a 
couch.  It  had  been  her  room  once,  and  she  had 
slept  there  many  a  night  within  vigil  of  the  stars. 
She  used  to  know  them  all  by  name,  and  she  was 
trying  to  remember  them  when  daylight  brought 
sleep  to  the  weary,  and  hid  them  all  from  sight. 


CHAPTER   IV 
THE  TURN  OF  THE   TIDE 

WHEN  Edythe  awoke,  it  was  very  late.  Clare 
had  gone  to  a  rehearsal,  and  Dorothy  was  in  the 
studio  at  work.  She  looked  up  when  Edythe 
came  in,  and  said :  "  Ah,  at  last ;  the  carriage  has 
been  for  you  twice.  The  second  time  this  note 
was  left  for  you.  James  was  told  to  wait  for  an 
answer,  but  I  told  him  I  wouldn't  disturb  you." 

"  I  am  thankful  for  that,"  she  replied,  as  she 
stood  for  a  moment  studying  the  small  sealed 
envelope  in  her  hand.  Then,  as  if  mystified  by 
its  meaning,  she  said  at  last,  "  I  suppose  I  must 
open  it ;  it  is  as  I  expected  —  I  must  return  home 
this  morning." 

"Then  you  are  going  to  leave  us,"  said  her 
sister. 

"  At  twelve  the  carriage  will  be  here ;  it  is 
almost  that  now." 

When  she  reached  her  home,  Mr.  Merrall  was 
awaiting  her  in  the  library.  He  came  out  and 

24 


THE   TURN   OF  THE   TIDE  25 

took  her  hands  in  his.  "  I  am  glad  you  have  come 
back,"  he  said,  and  there  was  a  wealth  of  tender- 
ness in  his  voice,  "  the  baby  was  talking  about 
you  all  the  morning.  He  is  better,  but  the  worst 
is  not  past."  He  helped  her  off  with  her  things, 
and  went  upstairs  with  her. 

"  I  have  Maurice  in  the  nursery,"  he  motioned, 
"he  seemed  to  be  happiest  there." 

Edythe  followed  him  into  the  large  room  where 
a  small  boy  welcomed  her,  holding  out  both  of  his 
baby  arms  to  her. 

"You  are  better,  dear,"  she  said,  stooping  and 
kissing  him,  "and  is  the  little  leg  well  again?" 
It  was  said  mechanically,  as  if  it  were  an  effort 
to  express  an  interest  which  was  not  hers  to  give. 
The  child  noticed  it.  He  gave  her  a  terrified  look, 
and  his  blue  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

"  You  don't  tare  if  I  am  hurted,"  he  cried,  "  and 
I'm  your  own  little  boy." 

The  other  two  children  were  standing  beside 
the  sick  boy  trying  to  comfort  him. 

"She  loves  you,  baby,"  they  said,  "and  those 
that  say  the  least  about  it,  love  the  best."  The 
child  was  for  the  moment  comforted,  and  the 
mother  smiled.  She  left  the  children  there  and 
went  into  her  own  room.  Mr.  Merrall  followed 


26  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

her.  "  If  the  baby  is  well  enough  to  be  moved, 
I  thought  we  might  open  the  house  at  Newport 
this  coming  week,"  her  husband  said  ;  "  the 
doctor  approves  of  a  change  at  once  for  Maurice." 
Then  as  she  made  him  no  reply,  he  added,  "  I 
suppose  you  can  be  ready  to  go  at  any  time." 

"  No,  Geoffrey,  I  cannot.  Take  the  children 
and  go  yourself,  but  I  will  remain  in  New  York." 

"  Edythe,  in  what  way  have  I  offended  you, 
what  is  the  trouble  ?  "  Mr.  Merrall  cried. 

"  You  have  not  done  anything,"  was  her  indif- 
ferent reply  as  she  turned  to  him.  "  You  under- 
stand me,  Geoffrey,  I  am  going  away  from 
you." 

Mr.  Merrall  sprung  forward,  his  face  was  colour- 
less, his  lips  ashen  white.  He  caught  both  her 
hands  in  his.  "  Is  it  some  one  else  ? "  he  cried  ; 
"  Edythe,  are  the  children  to  be  motherless  ?  " 

Edythe  was  unmoved.  If  there  was  any  trouble 
in  her  heart,  she  did  not  show  it.  "  I  am  going 
back  to  my  art,"  she  said  at  last.  "I  was  mad 
when  I  gave  it  up.  You  came  into  my  life  and 
offered  me  wealth  and  love.  I  was  a  mere  child, 
struggling  against  the  fickleness  of  fortune.  I 
was  blind  to  my  genius.  I  married  you,  regretting 
it  the  day  afterward.  I  have  borne  this  existence 


THE   TURN   OF  THE   TIDE  27 

almost  ten  years ;  now,  Geoffrey,  you  must  let  me 
go."  It  has  been  most  truly  said  that  those  who 
play  with  fate  stake  to  lose.  Like  love,  fate  is  a 
game  at  which  one  cheats  to  win.  Mr.  Merrall  was 
standing  with  his  back  toward  her,  every  vein  in 
his  face  was  bulging  out ;  his  hands  trembled  as 
never  before.  He  appeared  stupefied. 

"  You  get  the  divorce,"  she  continued,  when  he 
did  not  speak.  "  You  may  keep  the  children,  and 
I  will  never  trouble  them.  I  will  go  back  to  my 
old  friends  and  to  the  art  I  love." 

Mr.  Merrall  turned.  "  Let  it  be  separation  and 
not  divorce,"  he  said.  "  Edythe,  I  have  loved  you, 
and  will  always  love  you.  Don't  drive  me  to  ruin." 
His  words  were  heartrending.  His  splendid  figure 
was  bowed  with  his  emotion,  then,  as  she  was 
ready  to  leave  him,  he  said :  "  Edythe,  if  a  time 
ever  comes  when  you  need  a  friend,  send  for  me. 
We  are  born,  but  we  are  not  buried.  I  shall  never 
forget  that  the  children  are  yours  as  much  as  mine, 
and  we  both  have  one  in  heaven.  Days  may  turn 
to  years,  and  years  roll  into  eternity ;  but  the 
children  can  have  but  one  father  and  one  mother, 
and  one  heaven  in  the  end.  Good-by." 

She  left  him  standing  at  the  window,  and  was 
hardly  out  of  sight  when  the  physician's  carriage 


28  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

turned  the  corner.  Mr.  Merrall  was  in  the  nursery 
when  he  entered,  smoothing  out  Douglas's  tangled 
curls.  The  boy  was  seated  on  a  low  ottoman,  his 
head  buried  on  his  father's  knee. 

"  Papa  is  tombing  Buddy's  wig,  doctor,"  said 
the  invalid,  putting  up  his  rosebud  lips  for  the 
morning  kiss.  "  Papa  is  our  mamma  now  and  our 
papa,  and  he  is  our  good  nurse." 

The  physician  smiled,  and  turning  to  Mr.  Mer- 
rall, said,  "  Did  he  pass  a  good  night  ? " 

"  Very  good,  he  hardly  turned  once.  The  only 
complaint  he  makes  is  about  his  leg.  It  seems  to 
be  somewhat  swollen." 

"  All  twollen,  and  it  hurted  me,"  says  Maurice, 
sympathetically,  trying  to  move  it.  "  Tan't  do  it," 
he  said,  "  it  hurted  me  all  over." 

"  Poor  baby,"  says  the  doctor,  and  then  as 
Douglas  had  joined  Lionel,  he  summoned  up  cour- 
age and  inquired  for  Mrs.  Merrall. 

"  She  is  not  here,"  was  the  reply.  "  She  went 
out  as  you  came  in." 

"  And  she's  never  turning  back  again,  doctor," 
interrupts  Maurice,  shaking  his  wee  head,  "  never. 
She  tissed  me  right  here,"  he  said,  pointing  to  his 
dimpled  cheek,  "  and  she  said,  '  Be  a  dood  boy 
always,  Maurice,  for  mamma  not  turning  back/  and 


THE   TURN   OF   THE   TIDE  29 

she  tissed  Buddy  and  Lionel,  and  then  she  went 
out." 

Mr.  Merrall  was  standing  in  the  doorway.  "  It 
is  too  bad,"  he  said,  "too  bad." 

"  It  is  true,  then,"  said  the  physician,  trying  to 
see  the  injured  limb  through  his  clouded  eyes. 
His  glasses  were  like  a  sea  of  mist.  He  took  them 
off,  wiped  them,  and  put  them  on  again. 

"  It  is  very  kind  of  you  to  feel  for  us,  doctor," 
Mr.  Merrall  said,  as  he  noticed  the  physician's  great 
emotion.  "  It  is  hard  that  it  should  have  come  now 
of  all  times,  but  trouble  never  comes  unattended. 
Mrs.  Merrall's  love  for  her  art  superseded  that  for 
her  children,  and  she  has  gone  back  to  it.  She 
was  a  good  woman  always,  a  woman  of  splendid 
and  blameless  character,  but  entirely  heartless. 
Of  course  she  was  Bohemian  in  her  tastes  and 
interests,  but  even  in  Bohemia  you  find  splendid 
men  and  women.  I  am  not  opposed  to  the  life, 
I  never  to  my  knowledge  said  an  unjust  word 
about  it.  There  are  no  worse  people  there  than  in 
any  other  walk  of  life.  Edythe  was  born  there, 
and  I  was  not ;  but  that  never  made  any  difference 
between  us.  I  respected  her  and  loved  her,  and  she 
knew  it.  I  never  blamed  her  because  she  had  not 
a  mother's  heart.  I  was  reading  in  this  morning's 


30  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

paper  an  account  of  an  accident  to  a  newsboy  last 
night  on  Broadway.  It  interested  me  because  I 
have  boys  of  my  own,  and  one  ill  the  night  he  was. 
It  told  of  a  beautiful  woman,  who  took  the  child  to 
the  hospital  and  left  it  there  to  be  cared  for.  She 
left  no  name  or  address,  but  promised  to  come 
again.  It  is  said  that  she  was  a  thorough  Bohe- 
mian, from  her  style  and  dress,  but  what  a  true 
mother's  heart  that  splendid  woman  had." 

Dr.  Elliott  interrupted  him.  "  Mr.  Merrall,  I 
was  in  the  hospital  when  the  child  was  brought 
there.  There  is  nothing  about  the  accident  I  do 
not  know.  I  saw  the  woman  who  brought  the 
boy  there,  whose  arms  carried  the  child  to  the 
ward,  and  I  know  her  name." 

Mr.  Merrall  started.  "  Who  was  it?"  he  cried. 
"  Was  it  Mrs.  Merrall  ? "  and  the  doctor  replied  : 
"  It  was.  I  should  never  have  spoken  of  it  to  you  if 
you  had  not  She  didn't  notice  me,  for  she  hardly 
glanced  about  her.  The  cloak  she  wore  was  stained 
with  blood.  They  would  never  have  thought  of 
her  being  a  Bohemian  if  she  had  not  told  the  child 
so  herself.  The  last  question  he  asked  of  me  was, 
'  Where  is  Bohemia,  where  my  friend  live  ? ' ' 

Mr.  Merrall  was  too.  stung  and  mystified  to 
speak.  The  elder  boy,  Lionel,  was  standing  out- 


THE   TURN   OF  THE   TIDE  31 

side  the  door  when  his  father  noticed  him,  and 
drew  aside  the  portieres.  "  Come  in,  Lionel,"  he 
said,  and  the  child  entered. 

"  I  want  to  know  about  Maurice,"  he  said,  draw- 
ing close  to  the  sick  boy  as  he  spoke,  and  then, 
almost  beseechingly,  he  whispered  to  his  father, 
"  He  is  going  to  get  well  now,  isn't  he,  father  ?  " 

Dr.  Elliott  had  finished  bandaging  the  swollen 
limb  and  was  about  to  leave,  when  he  motioned 
Mr.  Merrall  to  follow  him.  "  I  wanted  to  tell  you," 
he  said,  "  that  I  shall  be  here  again  at  twelve. 
The  child's  temperature  is  all  right,  but  his  leg  is 
not  what  it  ought  to  be.  I  am  afraid  that  blood 
poisoning  may  set  in,  but  I  shall  know  positively 
by  to-night." 

"  You  don't  think,  doctor,  that  he  will  be  taken 
away  from  me  ? " 

"  No,"  was  the  physician's  reply ;  "  it  is  not 
at  all  probable.  If  blood  poisoning  should  set 
in,  it  may  not  be  serious;  but  again  it  might 
prove  fatal,  we  cannot  tell.  The  child  seems 
to  be  in  a  splendid  condition,  and  that  gives  us 
everything  to  hope  for." 

"  Listen,"  interrupted  Mr.  Merrall,  "  the  chil- 
dren are  speaking."  They  drew  near  to  the 
door.  Lionel  was  seated  on  the  bed,  holding 


32  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

the  baby's  hand.  Maurice  was  speaking.  "  Did 
you  know,  Lionel,"  he  said,  "that  mamma  had 
gone  to  tate  tare  of  another  little  boy  who 
hasn't  dot  any  father  or  mother,  or  anything? 
Dod  has  sent  her  to  him." 

"  No,  Maurice,"  says  Lionel,  "  God  didn't  take 
her  away  from  us,  she  went  away  herself.  She 
didn't  love  you  or  me  or  anybody,  and  you 
ought  not  to  cry." 

"  But  I  want  my  mother,"  says  the  child.  "  I 
like  to  look  at  her.  I  do  want  her  so,"  he 
cried  pitifully,  "  and  I  don't  know  where  to 
find  her." 

"  Do  you  want  her  back,  Maurice,"  says  Lionel, 
"  when  she  don't  love  us  ? " 

The  baby  buried  his  face  in  the  pillows. 
"Yes,  I  want  her,"  he  cried,  "if  she  hated  me, 
I  want  her,"  and  the  two  men  turned  speech- 
less from  the  door. 


CHAPTER  V 
AN   ALIEN   IN   BOHEMIA 

A  MORNING  in  the  studio  was  often  the  pleas- 
antest  part  of  the  day  to  Edythe.  There  were 
always  "  droppers-in,"  no  matter  what  the 
weather.  On  this  particular  morning  several 
had  been  and  gone,  and  the  forenoon  was  not 
past.  Ghleska  had  hurried  away,  Clare  had  to 
attend  a  rehearsal,  and  Dorothy  was  ill.  Edythe 
was  alone  in  the  studio  when  Lonspetti  appeared. 
"  I  was  told  Miss  Marion  was  here,"  he  said, 
coming  in. 

"  Yes ;  but  she's  off  for  Chicago  now,"  was 
the  reply.  "Her  company  leaves  on  the  11.06." 

"  Then  I  can't  see  her  now,"  he  laughed. 
"  She  wanted  me "  to  find  out  what  Sanger  had 
offered  for  her  Rahway  farm,  and  I  didn't  see 
the  agent  until  half-past  ten,  so  I  hurried  right 
up  here,  hoping  to  catch  her  before  she  left. 
If  you'll  just  give  me  a  slip  of  paper  and  a 
pencil,  I'll  send  her  a  line  to  reach  her  in 

33 


34  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

Chicago.  No  matter  about  pen  and  ink  if  you 
have  a  pencil  about." 

He  was  engaged  thus  when  the  janitor  an- 
nounced a  visitor,  the  Rev.  John  Rodgers 
Courtney,  assistant  rector  of  Calvary  Church. 

Edythe  was  undecided  about  seeing  him,  but 
after  a  moment's  deliberation  she  said  slowly, 
"Ask  him  up." 

Lonspetti  had  finished  his  note  when  the  door 
opened  and  the  young  clergyman  entered.  He 
shook  hands  with  her  cordially,  giving  the  Signer 
a  slight  glance  of  recognition  as  they  were 
introduced,  and  the  latter  departed. 

"  It  is  some  time  since  I  have  had  the  pleasure 
of  seeing  you,"  he  said  slowly,  "  not  since  I 
laid  your  little  girl  away,  although  you  may 
remember  I  called  several  times  afterward." 

"  I  was  ill  for  some  time  after  her  death," 
Edythe  replied,  "  and  I  never  saw  any  one.2' 

Mr.  Courtney  was  interested  in  her  "  Child's 
Head,"  and  after  studying  it  for  some  moments 
his  eyes  fell  on  an  old  portrait  directly  oppo- 
site. It  was  that  of  a  bishop  in  his  robes. 

"  May  I  ask  if  that  is  one  of  your  family  ? " 
he  inquired,  rising  to  see  it.  "  It  is  a  splendid 
portrait." 


AN  ALIEN   IN   BOHEMIA  35 

"  Oh,  no,  only  one  that  my  sister  has  been 
asked  to  restore.  It  was  badly  cracked  and 
faded,"  and  then  she  added,  "  I  don't  think 
we  have  any  bishops  in  our  family,  Mr.  Courtney, 
I  never  heard  of  any." 

"  But  you  are  church  people,  I  suppose,  your 
father  and  mother  and  those  before  them  ? " 

"Well,  hardly;  my  grandfather  was  a  Baptist 
minister,  and  my  father  heard  so  much  of  it  as 
a  boy  that  I  never  remember  his  going  to 
church." 

"And  your  mother?" 

"I  have  heard  she  attended  the  Presbyterian 
church  before  her  marriage,  but  that  can  be  of 
little  interest  to  either  of  us."  Mr.  Courtney 
bowed.  "You  know  I  am  an  agnostic,"  she 
continued  frankly.  "  I  should  be  very  glad  to 
believe  in  a  future  if  I  could  be  convinced  of 
one." 

"  You  do  not  believe  in  immortality  then  ? " 
cried  the  clergyman,  and  Edythe  shook  her  head. 
"  I  do  not  know.  We  all  of  us  hope  there  is  a 
future  somewhere,  but  death  is  a  borderland 
mystery,  something  we  shall  all  know  when  the 
river  is  crossed,  the  swift  tide  has  hurried  on 
to  the  end,  and  the  days  are  all  past.  We  can 


36  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

know  nothing  of  the  hereafter;  we  must  see  to 
believe,  and  die  to  see." 

The  clergyman  was  discomfited.  "You  can- 
not say,  Mrs.  Merrall,  that  you  never  expect  to 
see  that  baby  girl  again  that  you  laid  away." 

Again  she  shook  her  head.  "  I  simply  do  not 
know,"  she  replied.  "  If  I  could  believe  in  immor- 
tality, I  would.  If  you  believe  in  it,  tell  me,  do  we 
grow  younger  or  older  after  death,  or  do  the  little 
ones  stay  for  all  time  the  age  they  left  us  ? "  and 
for  the  first  time  Mr.  Courtney  was  without  a 
reply. 

"  That  is  what  mystifies  me,"  Edythe  continued, 
"  and  this  life  here  I  do  not  understand.  Why  do 
some  suffer  when  a  wicked  brother  is  always 
happy  ?  Why  are  some  rich  and  others  starving 
if  there  is  a  Saviour  ? " 

"  It  is  mere  circumstance :  a  poor  man  might 
often  become  wealthy  by  a  stroke  of  the  hand  or 
by  some  stray  thought  or  opportunity  which"  he  has 
let  carelessly  go  by.  You  know,  Mrs.  Merrall, 
that  none  of  us  brought  anything  into  this  world." 

"  No,  they  were  not  allowed  the  trouble  and 
burden.  The  rich  child  finds  it  awaiting  him,  and 
the  poor  one  must  work  for  the  rich  child  in  order 
to  live;  and  yet  all  of  us  came  the  same  way  into 


AN   ALIEN   IN   BOHEMIA  37 

this  world,  and  it  is  certain  that  we  are  all  going 
the  same  way  out.  It  is  the  one  satisfaction  of  my 
life  to  know  that  the  rich  man's  days  are  numbered 
as  well  as  the  poor  man's,  and  that  death  never 
yielded  to  a  fortune  in  one  instance.  Even  the 
great  Elizabeth  said,  '  All  my  possessions  for  one 
moment  of  time.'  Of  course,  Mr.  Courtney,  I  am 
a  non-believer ;  what  I  say  is  not  what  I  ask  you 
to  preach,  and  what  I  preach  I  ask  none  to  live  up 
to  except  the  believer." 

"  That  is  very  fair  and  kind  of  you,"  Mr.  Court- 
ney replied.  "We  clergy  hear  a  great  many 
beliefs  and  opinions.  A  man's  heart  cannot  be 
judged  from  his  religion,  nor  a  man's  soul  from 
what  he  does.  We  none  of  us  have  the  power  to 
decide  a  man's  last  resting-place,  be  it  heaven  or 
not.  We  leave  that  to  himself  and  to  his  Maker. 
If  he  has  gone  to  destruction  and  ruin,  ignoring 
help  and  sustenance,  he  had  in  some  way,  either 
blindly  or  willingly,  fallen  too  far  down  in  the  dark 
precipice  for  men  to  save  him  at  the  last.  It  is 
like  a  man  crying  for  deliverance  when  he  has  met 
death." 

The  young  clergyman  was  leaning  up  against 
an  easel,  his  strong  white  hand  was  resting  on  its 
frame.  He  was  a  magnificently  built  man,  tall, 


38  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

strong,  and  powerful.  He  had  a  fine  face,  eyes 
that  betokened  assurance  and  knowledge.  His 
manner  and  appearance  were  that  of  a  man  of 
forty,  although  the  young  rector  was  but  thirty- 
one.  He  had  graduated  with  high  honours  from 
the  Theological  Seminary,  been  well  spoken  of  by 
the  clergy,  and  had  been  given  a  place  to  fill  in  the 
church  that  many  older  men  envied.  His  first 
sermon  to  Calvary  congregation  had  been  well 
delivered,  and  each  succeeding  effort  had  been 
marked  with  success;  and  now  he  felt  that  a 
woman  had  sought  light  in  his  knowledge  to  find 
him  lacking.  As  they  talked  on,  upon  his  face 
there  came  that  look  of  respect  and  admiration  for 
Mrs.  Merrall  that  for  the  first  time  in  their  many 
meetings  he  had  ever  felt  for  her.  Something 
about  the  woman  appealed  to  him.  The  questions 
she  had  put  to  him  were  of  a  deeper  thought  than 
he  would  have  given  her  credit  for.  This  was  the 
woman  that  in  his  heart  he  had  once  despised.  It 
was  to  her  he  had  come  with  reproof  for  the  neg- 
lect of  her  sick  boy.  He  had  come  reluctantly,  no 
doubt,  this  his  heart  confessed.  The  rector  had 
sent  him,  for  hadn't  the  news  of  Mr.  Merrall's 
troubles  been  well  discussed  in  society  ?  Twice 
that  week  she  had  sent  flowers  to  the  child,  and 


AN   ALIEN   IN   BOHEMIA  39 

the  tiny  watch  he  had  had  but  a  few  hours,  Mr. 
Merrall  knew  had  come  from  Edythe. 

Mr.  Courtney  had  come  on  his  errand  with  a 
determined  mind  to  make  all  things  right.  The 
time  was  passing  and  no  mention  of  Maurice  had 
yet  been  made.  He  hardly  cared  to  mention  what 
must  needs  be  painful  to  her,  he  thought.  He 
could  see  in  the  woman's  face  before  him  no 
unkindness,  no  cruelty.  She  had  a  beautiful 
expression,  and  the  most  perfect  eyes,  he  thought, 
that  ever  graced  a  woman's  face.  Was  it  his  duty, 
he  reasoned,  he  a  stranger,  to  direct  her  to  go  to 
her  child  ?  Surely  she  would  go  no  sooner  at  his 
suggestion.  Neither  the  rector  nor  he  had  any 
possible  claim  upon  her.  He  had  wandered  many 
times  about  the  studio  in  his  uneasiness,  hoping, 
trusting  that  he  might  be  given  strength  to  fulfil 
the  rector's  wishes  and  be  gone.  In  his  heart  he 
had  no  desire  to  disturb  Mrs.  Merrall.  The 
atmosphere  of  the  artistic  surroundings  was  new 
to  him,  and  it  appealed  to  him.  There  was  peace 
there,  and  music  everywhere.  The  air  seemed 
laden  with  inspirations.  Ideas  came  to  him  that 
were  revelations.  He  could  preach  if  he  could 
only  write  his  sermons  there.  The  musical  instru- 
ments, the  pictures,  the  faces  of  living  and  dead 


40  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

geniuses,  looked  at  him  with  the  kind  eyes  of 
friends.  The  two  birds  that  sang  in  the  large  bay 
window  near  him  cheered  his  heart  and  soul. 
How  the  moments  flew  there !  He  had  intended 
to  make  his  visit  a  short  one,  thirty  minutes  at  the 
most,  and  already  an  hour  had  taken  flight.  But 
now  he  was  going  —  going,  he  felt,  back  to  the 
real  world  again.  He  would  come  again  when  he 
hoped  he  might  be  able  to  express  the  delight  that 
was  in  his  heart,  and  as  the  elevator  carried  him 
downward  he  said  to  himself,  "  So  this  is  a  land 
in  Bohemia." 


CHAPTER   VI 
BREAKERS   AHEAD 

AND  that  night  the  Rev.  John  Rodgers  Court- 
ney slept  little.  Over  him,  like  a  hypnotic 
spell,  hovered  the  influence  of  Edythe  Barattoni. 
In  the  darkness  of  the  night  her  fair  face  shone 
in  its  beauty.  His  heart  beat  and  his  pulses 
throbbed  as  he  thought  of  her.  He  would  fall 
asleep  but  to  dream  of  her,  and  she  was  another 
man's  wife.  Once,  when  he  was  four  years 
younger,  he  had  dreamed  that  he  was  in  love. 
Because  he  had  seen  no  fairer  face,  he  had  always 
treasured  that  one  as  a  child  does  things  he  may 
hope  to  have.  To-night  the  image  of  that  girl  was 
shattered  to  the  ground.  That  was  not  love,  he 
thought.  A  man  can  love  well  but  once.  The 
strange  charm  of  Edythe  Barattoni  had  fastened 
itself  upon  the  soul  of  Rodgers  Courtney.  She 
bewildered  all  men,  why  not  he  ?  even  a  clergyman 
is  human.  He  tried  to  drive  the  influence  away 
with  a  strong  will  and  a  stout  heart.  He  could 
never  marry  her,  he  could  never  have  her  love. 

41 


42  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

She  was  an  agnostic,  he  a  believer  in  immortality. 
He  must  marry  some  one  who  could  help  him  in 
his  work  for  God.  He  had  always  thought  that 
Emily  Edwards  was  the  woman  he  should  eventu- 
ally marry.  She  cared  for  him,  and  he  had  always 
given  her  every  reason  to  believe  that  he  returned 
it.  Four  years  had  passed  since  he  met  her,  and 
but  once  in  that  time  had  he  spoken  to  her  of 
marriage,  and  that  was  but  a  fortnight  ago.  Every- 
thing he  possessed  now  would  he  have  given  to 
blot  the  memory  of  it  out.  She  had  not  forgotten 
it.  "  A  woman  never  forgets,"  he  thought.  Like  a 
miserable  dream  the  memory  of  that  Tuesday 
night  rose  up  before  him,  only  to  fade  away  again 
in  the  thought  and  remembrance  of  Edythe  Barat- 
toni.  In  the  locked  drawer  of  his  small  library 
table,  wrapped  in  a  bit  of  lavender  silk,  was  her 
photograph.  It  had  been  painted  for  him  and 
given  to  him  by  Emily  Edwards's  mother.  He 
remembered  now  how  like  a  hypocrite  he  felt  when 
he  took  it  from  her.  Then  the  thought  occurred 
to  him  that  he  had  never  seen  a  girl  he  liked  better 
than  Emily  Edwards.  She  was  pretty,  just  pretty 
enough  to  be  always  pretty.  She  had  golden 
brown  hair,  which  she  wore  directly  back  from  her 
face,  soft  brown  eyes,  a  pink  and  white  complexion, 


BREAKERS   AHEAD  43 

and  a  faultless  mouth.  She  was  slightly  above  the 
medium  height,  she  dressed  plainly  but  exceed- 
ingly well.  There  was  a  certain  dignity  about  her 
that  commanded  respect  from  every  one.  She 
never  argued  anything,  yet  her  education  and 
information  were  far  above  the  ordinary.  When 
she  spoke,  she  knew  how  to  speak,  and  with  her 
uncommon  mind  had  mastered  well  the  rules  of 
silence.  Emily  Edwards  was  twenty-five,  just  the 
woman  for  a  clergyman's  wife,  people  said  who 
knew  her.  Rodgers  Courtney  couldn't  do  better. 
She  was  always  faithful  in  her  word  and  deed,  a 
great  and  sympathetic  worker  in  the  church  she 
loved,  and  a  woman  whom  every  one  admired.  For 
four  years  Rodgers  Courtney  had  dragged  the 
affair  on,  never  quite  a  lover,  though  always  a 
friend.  Emily  loved  him,  no  one  knew  it  better 
than  Rodgers  himself,  and  while  half  regretting 
it,  he  always,  perhaps  unconsciously,  kept  off  the 
butterflies  that  fluttered  about  her.  He  had  known 
of  two  men  who  had  wanted  to  marry  her,  but  she 
had  given  them  up  for  him.  When  he  heard  of  it, 
he  didn't  tell  her,  as  he  should  have  done,  "  Don't 
do  it  for  me,  I  am  not  worthy  of  it."  No,  he 
smiled  at  her,  and  that  night  sent  her  the  largest 
white  violets  he  could  find  in  New  York. 


44  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

But,  after  all,  what  are  violets  ?  They  do  not 
hold  a  winged  bird  the  closer.  They  are  only 
messengers  of  to-day's  love,  to-morrow's  is  another 
lottery.  The  violets  all  will  be  dead,  their  coming 
and  their  message  is  only  a  mind's  memory. 
The  violet  ribbon  that  tied  them  you  say  will  last ; 
ay,  truly,  but  a  violet  ribbon  is  not  a  written  con- 
fession in  black  and  white.  Rodgers  Courtney  in 
his  heart  meant  to  marry  Emily  Edwards  some- 
time, although  the  final  declaration  and  preparation 
he  had  repeatedly  put  off.  A  few  weeks  before 
he  was  assistant  at  a  large  church  wedding.  Emily 
was  one  of  the  bridesmaids.  He  remembered  as 
she  stood  beside  the  bride  that  some  day  in  the 
not  distant  future  she  would  be  his  wife,  and  he 
thought  how  much  fairer  she  was  than  the  one  who 
stood  at  the  altar.  Wedding  bells  always  infuse 
in  us  a  kind  of  sentiment.  They  say  one  wedding 
invariably  makes  another.  For  that  short  moment 
Rodgers  Courtney  wished  with  all  his  heart  it  were 
his  wedding  day,  and  he  told  Emily  so  that  night 
after  the  reception.  He  remembered  now  that  she 
didn't  blush  or  stammer  as  many  girls  would  have 
done,  but  she  smiled,  and  a  woman's  smile  he 
thought  was  worth  half  a  dozen  answers.  And 
to-night  life  looked  so  different  to  him.  He 


BREAKERS   AHEAD  45 

remembered,  though  with  a  feeling  of  remorse, 
how  the  night  of  the  wedding  he  had  sat  in  his 
study  for  an  hour  or  more  looking  at  her  picture 
—  but  no  one  knew  it  but  himself.  He  had  seen 
Emily  the  next  morning  at  a  guild  meeting,  and  it 
was  his  intention  to  tell  her  of  the  incident,  per- 
haps something  more ;  but  something  interrupted 
him,  and  now  he  was  thankful  that  Providence 
had  interfered. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE   STUDIO   OF  THE   BARATTONIS 

IF  Edythe  ever  thought  of  the  child's  illness, 
it  apparently  did  not  disturb  her.  She  was  at  her 
old  seat  in  the  studio  by  the  eastern  window,  her 
mind  intent  on  her  picture  of  a  child's  head.  Lon- 
spetti  and  Clare  were  singing  together  at  one  end 
of  the  room,  and  Dorothy  was  adding  some  finish- 
ing touches  to  a  picture  that  had  long  been 
ordered.  Presently  Miss  Morgan,  an  old  friend  of 
Dorothy's,  dropped  in  for  a  chat ;  she  was  imbued 
with  her  theatrical  success,  and  the  future  that 
lay  open  before  her.  "  Failure  is  almost  impos- 
sible with  such  a  play,"  she  exclaimed.  "  I  don't 
believe  there  is  another  play  like  it  in  the  country. 
It  is  all  excitement,  heroism  on  my  part,  grandeur 
of  style,  and  a  dying  scene  at  the  end  which  is 
powerfully  realistic.  It  is  positive  success." 

Edythe  listened  with  interest  to  the  conversation, 
the  delightful  assurance  that  fate  had  given  this 
fair  woman.  Ah,  if  she  only  had  such  assurance, 

46 


THE   STUDIO   OF   THE   BARATTONIS        47 

she  thought,  but  she  was  as  bereft  of  faith  as  a 
new-born  child  of  raiment.  She  was  quiet  at  her 
work  this  morning,  stopping  only  once  or  twice  to 
listen  to  Lonspetti's  "  White  Violets,"  which  he 
had  composed  for  her  sister.  It  was  a  dainty 
thing  and  admirably  suited  to  the  voice  of  the 
young  singer,  whose  name  was  becoming  known 
over  two  continents.  No  young  singer  of  the  day 
gave  the  promise  of  Clare  Barattoni.  Edythe  was 
well  proud  of  her.  She  was  a  girl  of  twenty-four 
summers,  though  a  mere  child  in  appearance. 
She  was  not  above  medium  height,  with  a  child- 
ish grace  and  simplicity,  and  lovable  ways.  She 
was  not  handsome,  as  her  two  sisters  were;  for 
even  Dorothy,  with  her  conceit  and  self-conscious- 
ness, was  unmistakably  fine  looking.  Clare  was 
not  that.  Her  features  had  not  the  perfect  regu- 
larity of  Edythe's,  nor  had  she  Dorothy's  won- 
derful smile.  Her  features  were  an  alluring 
combination,  none  of  them  exactly  pleasing  to 
a  sculptor  or  painter,  yet  in  themselves  charm- 
ing to  look  upon.  Her  nose  was  slightly  tip- 
tilted,  there  was  a  pout  that  lingered  about  the 
mouth,  her  eyes  were  handsome,  as  was  her  golden 
hair.  She  held  herself  well,  and  when  on  the 
stage  none  ever  looked  more  radiantly  beautiful 


48  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

than  she  did.  She  was  engaged  to  sing  in  Lon- 
don that  summer,  and  Lonspetti's  "White  Violets  " 
was  to  be  in  her  repertory.  Dorothy  and  Miss 
Morgan  had  gone  out  when  they  had  finished 
rehearsing,  and  Lonspetti  was  stowing  away  the 
old  Stradivarius  in  its  case  when  Edythe  inter- 
rupted him. 

"  Don't  go,  Signer,"  she  said,  pushing  back 
her  chair,  and  holding  out  her  hand  toward  him. 
"  Come,  you  and  Clare,  and  talk  to  me,"  she  added, 
as  she  pulled  up  two  chairs  near  her. 

"  As  if  you  had  not  heard  enough  of  me  to 
desire  no  further  communication,"  said  the 
Signor  in  his  fascinating  way,  coming  up  and 
acknowledging  graciously  the  attention  showed 
him.  Clare  put  away  her  music  before  she  joined 
them,  and  was  hardly  seated  when  the  postman 
appeared  in  the  doorway. 

"I  have  here  a  letter  for  a  Mrs.  Merrall,"  he 
said,  as  he  handed  to  Clare  three  letters  and 
paused  with  the  fourth  one,  departing  immediately 
on  its  being  claimed.  Edythe  excused  herself  and 
opened  the  letter.  It  was  from  Geoffrey,  one  of 
his  appealing  notes. 

"We  take  Maurice  to  Newport  to-morrow,"  it 
read.  "  Will  you  not  see  him  before  we  go,  as  he 


THE   STUDIO   OF   THE   BARATTONIS        49 

cries  constantly  for  you,  reaching  out  for  your 
love  beyond  mine.  Blood  poisoning  has  not  set 
in  or  any  distressing  symptoms,  yet  his  baby 
strength  is  waning,  and  his  last  days  with  us  are 
now  passing  away.  As  we  were  given  one  of  God's 
brightest  children  for  so  short  a  time,  can  we  let 
him  return  home  with  his  last  request  unanswered, 
and  the  memory  of  it  to  haunt  me  forever  ?  Once 
again  I  pray  you  to  come  to  him. 

"GEOFFREY  MERRALL." 

She  handed  the  note  to  her  sister,  and  again 
seating  herself  pulled  out  from  a  table  drawer 
some  pen  and  ink  sketches  she  was  doing.  "  I 
want  to  show  you  these,  Signor,"  she  said,  lay- 
ing the  note  aside.  "  I  have  a  Cordova  here 
which  I  thought  would  interest  you.  I  began 
it  when  Bottman  was  in  this  country ;  it's  his 
violin.  I  just  finished  it  yesterday.  I  thought 
I  might  dispose  of  it,"  she  continued,  "if  it 
would  bring  a  fair  price,  worth  the  time,  you 
know." 

And  the  Signor  nodded  in  the  affirmative. 
"  Certainly,  not  only  for  the  time,  but  the  work, 
it  should  bring  a  large  compensation." 

Then,  as  he  was  studying  it,  Edythe's  glance 
fell  upon  her  sister.  "  Did  you  read  it  ? "  she 


50  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

asked.  "  Quite  unnecessary,  don't  you  think 
so  ?  " 

"  Ah,  but  I  would  go,  Edythe ;  go,  and  you 
will  never  regret  it.  I  could  not  refuse  a 
stranger  that  wanted  me,  and  this  is  your  own 
child." 

"  Yes,  my  own,  'tis  true ;  but  I  was  given  no 
heart  to  love  him  with.  'Tis  better  for  me  to 
stay  away  than  make  my  visit  to  him  a  disap- 
pointment. I  sympathize  with  him,  but  he 
refuses  my  sympathy.  He  wants  what  his  father 
wanted  before  him,  my  whole  heart,"  and  her 
words  set  the  Signer  thinking  as  he  passed 
quietly  out.  "  Geoffrey  will  be  there,"  Edythe 
continued  ;  "he  will  beg  for  my  return  to  him. 
He  will  plead  for  me  to  explain  everything,  and 
insist  upon  offering  me  help  of  which  I  am  not  in 
need.  I  made  the  great  mistake  of  my  life  in 
marrying  him.  I  have  borne  his  name  for  nine 
years,  and  now  I  purpose  to  begin  my  career  over 
again,  another  and  a  wiser  woman.  My  mistake 
has  shown  me  life  as  I  never  pictured  it.  It  has 
given  me  experience  which  is  the  best  teacher  of 
them  all,  and  under  her  instruction  I  shall  begin 
to  work  again,  forgetting  everything  that  belongs 
to  the  past." 


THE  STUDIO  OF  THE  BARATTONIS        51 

"  Then  you  will  not  go,  Edythe  ? "  said  her  sister, 
and  the  reply  was  "  No." 

Then  the  work  went  on  again.  Clare  sang 
snatches  of  several  songs,  and  Edythe  continued 
with  her  picture.  "  When  I  finish  this,"  she  said, 
glancing  up,  "  I  have  a  splendid  conception  for  a 
picture  of  death.  I've  been  working  it  out  in  my 
mind's  eye  for  some  time,  and  I  intend  to  work  in 
it  my  best  efforts." 

"  I  wish  you  would  go  abroad  with  me,  and  paint 
it  there,"  says  Clare,  returning.  "  Not  only  for  the 
pleasure  of  having  you  with  me,  but  it  would  do 
you  lots  of  good." 

"  Yes,  but  I  want  to  have  my  arrangements  for 
next  season  settled ;  I  've  got  to  stay  here.  If  I  get 
a  theatre  in  New  York,  as  I  want  to  for  the  first 
week  in  October,  my  rehearsals  must  be  under  way 
by  the  first  of  September,  and  my  company  looked 
up." 

"  It  will  seem  strange  to  see  you  on  the  boards 
again,  dearie,"  said  Clare.  "  No  one  will  welcome 
you  back  more  heartily  than  I  shall." 

"  Returning  after  nine  years  to  seek  the  laurels 
that  were  once  mine  is  going  to  be  like  a  leap  in 
the  dark.  I  have  saved  the  money  to  do  it,  and 
I  intend  to  do  it  carefully,  giving  it  my  whole 


52  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

thought  and  time.     Haste  has  lost   many   a  for- 
tune." 

******** 

In  the  Merrall  home  the  sun  was  sinking,  and 
the  bed  where  the  sick  boy  lay  was  wrapt  in  its 
glory.  Geoffrey  Merrall  sat  beside  the  bed,  keep- 
ing the  sun  from  the  child's  face.  "  You  'spected 
her  before  this,  didn't  you,  father  ?  "  says  Maurice, 
breaking  the  silence  as  he  pushed  himself  higher 
on  the  pillows  and  sighed  heavily. 

"  Yes,  I  did,  little  boy." 

"  I  know  you  did,  or  you  wouldn't  have  told  me 
so,"  says  the  child ;  "  but  it  seems  long  waiting, 
doesn't  it,  father  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Maurice,"  was  the  quiet  reply. 

Mr.  Merrall  stroked  the  child's  head  tenderly. 
"  I  guess  now  she's  going  to  wait  and  have  sup- 
per," suggests  Maurice.  "  I  guess  I'd  better  have 
mine  now  while  I'm  waiting." 

Dinner  over,  the  long,  long  wait  began  again. 
Never  once  did  the  child's  faith  in  his  mother  wane 
ever  so  little.  The  other  boys  went  to  sleep,  but 
the  baby's  eyes  tired  not  in  their  vigil.  The  little 
clock  on  the  mantel  struck  seven  —  eight  —  nine 
—  ten,  and  then  eleven. 

The  yacht  Dorothy  was  scheduled  to  leave  for 


THE   STUDIO   OF   THE   BARATTONIS         53 

Newport  at  six  in  the  morning.  There  was  no 
other  chance  for  Edythe  to  come  before  they  left. 
Geoffrey  had  long  given  up  hope  when  Maurice 
did.  Then  in  the  stillness  of  the  room  Geoffrey 
heard  him  repeating  to  himself  the  prayer  that  his 
mother  had  taught  him,  "  Now  I  lay  me  down  to 
sleep."  The  nurse  heard  him,  and  turned  the 
light  still  further  down.  Mr.  Merrall  passed  noise- 
lessly into  his  room,  and  the  nurse's  vigil  for  the 
night  began. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

SIGNOR    LONSPETTI 

"Music  is  well  said  to  be  the  speech  of  angels."  —  CARLYLE. 

THE  Rev.  John  Rodgers  Courtney  was  often 
a  guest  at  the  Barattonis1.  He  had  heard, 
for  who  had  not,  of  Edythe's  continued  indiffer- 
ence to  her  child,  of  her  separation  from  her 
husband,  and  of  her  possible  return  to  the  stage. 
Society  shrugged  her  shoulders  and  said,  "  I  told 
you  so,"  and  many  ugly  rumours  crept  out  of  the 
highways  and  byways  only  to  meet  certain  denial 
at  the  hands  of  Geoffrey  Merrall.  He  promptly 
denied  everything  that  would  in  any  way  cast  a 
shadow  on  his  wife's  character  or  career.  Hurt 
at  heart  as  he  was,  he  held  up  her  name  in  open 
defiance  to  the  world.  "  Those  who  pass  her, 
pass  me,"  he  was  heard  to  say  to  his  rector, 
the  Rev.  Dr.  Mcllvaine.  "Whatever  insult  is 
offered  to  Mrs.  Merrall,  I  shall  consider  as  offered 
to  me.  I  have  sent  her  the  keys  of  my  house 
that  she  may  return  when  she  chooses ;  for  while 
she  bears  my  name,  she  has  my  protection."  So 

54 


SIGNOR   LONSPETTI  55 

society  ceased  talking,  and  with  Mr.  Men-all's 
removal  to  Newport  the  incident,  sad  as  it  was, 
was  for  the  moment  forgotten. 

Occasionally  strangers  would  pass  the  house 
there  and  look  at  it  with  idle  curiosity,  but  its 
quiet  dignity  told  little,  though  it  impressed 
all. 

Maurice  was  gaining  strength  in  the  excellent 
care  of  his  grandmother,  who,  as  she  herself 
once  declared,  was  no  genius,  but  a  good  nurse  ; 
and  where  art  had  no  responding  note,  she  had 
a  wonderful  love  for  her  own  people.  "  I  am 
one  of  the  old-fashioned  people,"  she  said  once, 
many  years  before.  "  I  came  from  Massachusetts. 
I  was  born  in  the  same  house  my  great-grand- 
father was  born  and  lived  in.  The  garden  where 
he  played  as  a  child,  I  also  played  in.  Other 
houses  as  old  as  ours  stood  beside  it.  Their 
inhabitants  were  our  friends,  not  friends  met 
yesterday,  but  friends  for  generations.  Among 
them  I  don't  recall  one  genius.  Brighter  men 
and  women  I  have  no  doubt  there  were,  and 
this  higher  education  and  forward  march  breeds 
some  excellent  people  still,  but  ten  times  as 
many  fools.  We  are  living  to-day  in  a  new- 
fashioned  world.  I  do  not  belong  to  this  artistic 


56  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

generation."  So  opinions  differ  as  the  world 
runs  on.  Edythe  knew  well  her  mother-in-law's 
sentiments,  though  even  the  thought  of  an  unkind 
word  had  never  passed  between  them.  Now  that 
the  past  lay  behind  her,  blotted  out  as  a  mistake, 
she  never  recalled  it.  With  fresh  courage  and 
awakened  ambition  her  new  life  was  beginning. 
Like  a  nightingale  that  had  been  for  years  im- 
prisoned where  the  sun  failed  to  find  him,  where 
the  voice  God  had  blessed  him  with  he  had  no 
heart  to  use,  now  away  to  his  own  home,  his 
friends,  and  the  sunshine.  If  a  bird  is  unhappy 
a  captive,  why  not  a  human  being  who  has  an 
immortal  soul  ?  Freedom  is  the  greatest  light  of 
civilization. 

Edythe  was  at  work  on  her  picture,  and  her 
mind  was  wholly  upon  it.  Several  artists  and 
connoisseurs  had  been  in  to  see  it,  and  had  con- 
sidered it  above  the  ordinary.  No  one  was  more 
impressed  with  its  certain  distinctness  of  style 
and  colour  than  Rodgers  Courtney,  who  although 
not  an  artist  might  have  been  one.  His  charm 
and  interest  pleased  Edythe;  for  though  she 
thought  him  a  little  estranged  in  their  Bohemian 
surroundings,  nevertheless  they  welcomed  him 
kindly  and  took  his  interests  to  heart. 


SIGNOR   LONSPETTI  57 

The  friendship  with  Emily  Edwards  remained 
unbroken,  though  his  interest  in  her  had  long 
died.  He  had  confided  the  affair  to  Edythe, 
who  advised  him  by  all  means  to  marry  her. 
"A  happy  marriage,"  she  said,  "is  where  two 
hearts  meet  in  a  common  interest;  that  is  your 
church,  which  she  loved  before  you  met  her. 
Socially,  you  stand  on  the  same  ground,  your 
friends  are  all  common  ones  "  —  and  still  he  hesi- 
tated. Edythe  didn't  know  it  was  she  that  was 
the  rock  between  them.  Had  she  but  known, 
she  would  have  cast  it  down.  Many  men  had 
loved  her  in  her  life,  but  she  was  not  a  woman 
who  ever  boasted  of  conquests.  "  Give  me  a  man 
who  will  be  my  friend,  not  my  lover,"  she  had 
said.  "  Friendship  is  harder  won  than  admira- 
tion." Lonspetti  had  never  married  because  of 
Edythe,  though  to  her  it  was  a  thing  undreamed 
of.  He  would  have  destroyed  his  old  Stradi- 
varius,  which  was  dearer  to  him  than  his  life, 
to  have  given  Edythe  any  happiness. 

"Ah,  my  old,  old  friend,  my  violin,"  he  has 
cried  so  often.  "  All  that  I  have  to  make  life 
worth  the  living.  My  Stradivarius,  my  own 
familiar  friend." 

Those  who  were  fond  of  the  Signer  invariably 


58  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

had  a  peculiar  affection  for  the  old  instrument. 
Lonspetti  might  have  conquered  the  world  with 
the  magic  of  his  violin.  He  had  held  audiences 
in  London  when  standing  room  went  at  a  pre- 
mium. He  had  played  before  the  greatest  musi- 
cal critics  of  the  world,  only  to  mystify  them  with 
the  mere  touch  of  his  wand.  "What  kind  of  a 
man  is  this  Lonspetti  ? "  said  Bottman,  when  he 
wrote  his  "Impressions  of  America"  on  his 
return  to  Italy.  "  I  went  to  hear  him  a  sceptic ;  I 
came  away  a  thinker.  He  showed  me  that  my 
violin  was  yet  sleeping,  which  I  thought  awakened. 
He  is  greater  than  any  one  I  have  ever  heard." 
Russi,  a  violinist  of  no  small  reputation  in  his  day, 
wrote  to  the  London  Times :  "  My  visit  to  America 
is  forgotten  in  the  effort  to  remember  the  music  of 
Lonspetti's  Stradivarius.  His  violin  brings  closer 
communication  with  heaven  than  I  thought  was 
possible." 

Only  for  others  Lonspetti  lives,  and  what  a 
grand,  good  life  it  is !  No  one  knew,  but  a  favoured 
few,  that  the  proceeds  of  his  last  concert  in  Mad- 
ison Square  Garden  went  for  the  poor  of  New 
York.  "  I  am  one  of  them,"  he  said,  "  and  my 
heart  is  with  them."  But  the  Signor  had  no  need 
to  be  poor.  Poverty  only  walked  with  him  at  his 


SIGNOR   LONSPETTI  59 

own  bidding.  To  have  accepted  but  one  offer  for 
a  concert  tour  would  have  assured  him  of  a  for- 
tune. But  he  is  only  resting  now,  he  tells  us,  and 
he  needs  it. 

The  Signer  is  forty-one,  born  in  Italy  of  a 
grand  old  family.  He  does  not  tell  us  of  his  an- 
cestors or  of  his  life  in  Florence ;  but  if  you  know 
the  bearing  and  air  of  an  old  noble  family,  you 
will  not  doubt  as  to  what  class  this  musician 
belongs.  "  I  am  a  wanderer,"  he  says,  "  Bohe- 
mian, and  musician.  I  left  Italy  when  a  boy  of 
nineteen,  an  orphan  and  penniless  save  for  the 
old  violin.  I  have  been  offered  large  sums  for  it 
many  times,  but  through  it  all  I  have  never  parted 
with  it.  In  leaving  home  I  renounced  all  claim  to 
my  father's  title  and  fortune.  So  I  am  without 
ancestors  or  a  home,  and  the  name  of  Lonspetti, 
given  me  by  a  teacher  in  Paris,  has  no  associations 
with  the  name  of  old." 

This  information  he  gave  to  a  New  York 
reporter. 


CHAPTER   IX 

HAD   FATE   DECREED 

THE  home  of  Lonspetti  was  as  thoroughly  un- 
pretentious as  its  occupant.  It  consisted  of  two 
rooms  in  a  quiet  boarding-house  on  Lexington 
Avenue,  a  sitting  room,  and  a  bedroom.  They 
were  on  the  fourth  story  of  the  house,  which  it  is 
unnecessary  to  add  was  the  top  one.  In  the  sitting 
room  was  a  divan,  an  old-fashioned  desk  near  the 
window,  a  table  with  a  banquet  lamp  on  it,  several 
comfortable  chairs,  and  two  very  antique-looking 
wardrobes.  In  his  bedroom  was  a  small  couch,  a 
dresser,  and  a  solitary  chair.  Over  the  dresser 
hung  two  faded  photographs  of  Edythe  as  "Ju- 
liet," taken  the  year  of  her  marriage  and  retire- 
ment, which  with  the  exception  of  a  drawing  of 
his  violin  in  his  sitting  room  were  the  only  pic- 
tures that  adorned  his  apartment.  Rodgers  Court- 
ney thought  the  appearance  of  the  rooms  desolate 
as  he  knocked  on  the  Signer's  door  that  morning, 
but  he  soon  forgot  the  impression  in  the  glad 
welcome  of  the  artist. 

60 


HAD   FATE   DECREED  6 1 

"I  came  informally,  as  you  asked  me  to  do," 
said  the  clergyman,  "  not  to  see  your  home,  but  to 
see  you." 

"  As  I  desired,"  replied  Lonspetti,  motioning 
him  to  a  seat  beside  him  at  the  window.  "The 
place  suits  me,  and  that's  all  that  is  required.  A 
goodly  supply  of  windows  for  the  summer  time 
and  an  open  fire  in  the  winter.  Here  my  meals 
are  brought  to  me,  everything  in  its  season  and  at 
my  convenience.  When  I  go  out,  no  matter  for 
what  length  of  time,  whether  hours  or  days,  my 
rooms  appear  in  the  best  of  order  on  my  return, 
and  the  maids  have  long  vanished.  I  am  never 
asked  on  going  out  when  my  return  may  be 
looked  for,  or  my  whereabouts  questioned.  It  is 
quite  good  enough  for  me." 

As  he  spoke,  two  small  gray  heads  pushed  open 
the  half-closed  door,  and  two  pairs  of  eyes  like 
sapphires  blinked  at  him  from  the  hallway. 

"Those  are  my  cats,"  he  said,  "picked  up  in 
an  April  snow  flurry.  Twins,  I  imagine,"  and  he 
rose  to  show  Mr.  Courtney  their  beauty. 

"  You  like  animals,  then  ?  "  said  the  clergyman, 
as  he  took  one  from  the  Signer.  "  It  is  quite  the 
prettiest  kitten  I  ever  saw." 

"  I  like  every  living  thing,"  replied  the  Signer, 


62  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

dropping  the  twin  into  one  of  the  large  loose 
pockets  of  his  jacket.  "They  sleep  there,"  he 
said,  "while  I  work.  By  the  way,  Mr.  Courtney, 
did  I  tell  you  that  I  have  had  a  very  flattering 
offer  to  play  in  London  in  June  ? " 

"  No,  of  course  you  will  go  ? " 

"  I  suppose  so.  I  must  get  to  work  again, 
sooner  or  later,  and  this  is  too  good  an  offer  to 
refuse.  Then,  too,  I  am  thinking  Miss  Barattoni 
will  be  there,  and  I  could  play  for  her  opening. 
The  girl's  voice  depends  so  much  on  the  worth 
of  her  accompanist  By  the  way,"  said  the 
Signor,  "read  the  cablegram  while  I  move  the 
table  over  for  our  lunch." 

As  he  rose,  two  fluffy  heads  appeared  above 
the  top  of  the  pockets,  and  sniffed  intelligently  at 
the  word  "  lunch."  The  door  was  opened,  and  a 
maid,  almost  by  magic,  appeared  on  the  threshold 
with  a  large  silver  waiter,  which  announced  the 
coming  of  good  things.  Bouillon,  some  cold 
tongue,  a  fried  spring  chicken,  some  potatoes, 
bread  and  butter,  and  claret. 

"  I  hope  this  will  be  to  your  liking,  Mr. 
Courtney,"  said  the  Signor,  as  they  sat  down ; 
"  the  menu  would  have  awaited  your  order  had  I 
known  you  were  coming." 


HAD   FATE   DECREED  63 

"  I  should  not  be  so  courteous  to  a  tramp," 
laughed  Mr.  Courtney.  "  Your  hospitality  gives 
me  so  much  home  feeling  that  I  shall  fear  to 
impose  upon  you." 

"  Impose  on  an  artist !  there  is  no  such  word 
with  us,"  chimed  Lonspetti  with  his  musical 
laugh.  "We  Bohemians  live  for  our  friends,  the 
richest  and  the  poorest,  according  to  what  he 
has.  I  want  you  to  be  interested  in  us,  and 
our  friend  and  counsellor  in  the  world  you  live 
in." 

"I  should  fail  as  a  counsellor,"  sighed  the 
young  clergyman,  "  though  I  will  make  good  the 
deficiency  as  a  friend.  I  thought  I  was  learned 
enough  to  preach  before  I  met  Mrs.  Merrall. 
Her  questions  have  already  showed  me  that  to 
be  a  great  preacher  and  adviser  I  must  think  and 
study  deeply  the  mysteries  and  sorrows  of  human 
life.  I  have  no  desire  to  live  by  the  wit  and  ideas 
of  others.  To  form  original  ideas  can  be  done 
only  with  constant  study  and  thought." 

"As  in  everything,"  said  the  Signor,  "there 
is  no  end  to  study.  It  is  in  an  encyclopaedia 
with  no  last  page.  Those  who  claim  they  know 
everything  are  just  the  ones  to  be  pitied;  their 
heads  are  generally  so  crammed  full  with  a  little 


64  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

of  everything,  and  no  part  complete,  that  to  seek 
resource  in  their  knowledge  is  useless." 

"  I  have  met  such  people,"  said  Mr.  Courtney. 
"  Only  yesterday  a  man  told  me  that  he  had 
almost  learned  the  '  Encyclopaedia  Britannica ' 
word  for  word,  and  could  repeat  it  with  but  barely 
a  reference." 

"  Is  he  in  the  home  for  the  insane,  or  did  you 
put  him  to  the  test  on  the  moment  ? " 

"  No,  he  sailed  on  the  Paris  yesterday.  I 
went  down  to  see  him  off." 

"  I  am  sorry  he  should  have  selected  that  of 
all  good  ships,"  said  the  Signer ;  "  for  the  boat 
will  surely  sink  under  such  a  load  of  knowledge, 
and  one  of  my  old  chums  is  a  passenger." 

The  two  men  laughed,  as  they  went  on  eating. 

"  While  I  think  of  it,"  said  Lonspetti,  after 
a  moment's  silence,  "don't  you  want  to  accom- 
pany me  to  the  Barattonis'  this  afternoon?  I 
have  a  rehearsal  with  Clare  at  three,  and  the 
rehearsals  are  now  far  enough  under  way  to  be 
enjoyable.  Then,  too,  I  am  going  to  let  them 
decide  about  this  London  offer,"  and  he  put  the 
despatch  back  in  his  pocket  as  he  spoke. 

"  I  shall  be  only  too  happy,"  replied  Courtney, 
"  if  you  do  not  think  I  shall  be  intruding.  They 


HAD   FATE   DECREED  65 

are  always  so  kind  to  me,  it  is  a  privilege  to  go 
there." 

"  And  they  want  you  to  come,  I  assure  you," 
said  Lonspetti,  rising.  "They  often  speak  of 
you." 

"  I  wish  I  were  one  of  you,  with  all  my  soul  I 
do,"  cried  Courtney,  with  feeling.  "  Your  kindred 
interests  help  each  other's  work.  It  is  an  in- 
centive to  do  your  best." 

"But  we  are  Bohemians,"  said  the  musician, 
"and  in  your  work  to  be  one  would  injure  you 
in  every  step  you  were  to  take.  You  must  be 
one  with  the  world  you  ask  bread  of.  There  are 
as  many  classes  of  Bohemians  as  the  nations  of 
the  earth,  though  the  world  is  applied  to  all  of 
us  alike.  We  cannot  demand  justice,  we  can 
only  work  for  it.  Does  not  the  term  'actor'  or 
'  actress '  apply  to  a  degraded  woman  from  the 
slums  who  is  seen  at  the  low  concert  halls  as  well 
as  to  Cushman,  whose  character  and  life  was  an 
example  for  women  to  live  up  to?  Because  a 
woman  is  earning  her  own  living,  with  her  life 
so  that  all  may  read,  must  she  be  classed  with 
the  fallen  woman  whose  book  is  too  stained  for 
inspection  ?  In  my  life  I  have  met  many  ex- 
cellent women,  but  two  especially  do  I  recall  as 


66  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

the  best  women  I  ever  expect  to  see  this  side 
of  the  river.  One  is  our  mutual  friend,  Mrs. 
Merrall,  and  the  other  is  Camille  Marie,  the  re- 
tired tragedienne,  who  has  been  the  guest  of 
royalty  and  of  bishops.  On  the  night  of  her 
farewell  to  the  stage  I  was  present.  It  was  in 
Washington,  and  I  shall  ever  remember  it  as  the 
greatest,  most  inspiring  night  of  my  life.  I 
knew  her  as  the  woman,  simple,  thoughtful, 
generous,  and  home-loving.  That  night  she  was 
a  queen,  tragic  and  powerful.  On  one  side  of 
her,  draped  with  your  loyal  stars  and  stripes, 
was  the  President  with  four  of  his  Cabinet.  On 
the  other  side  sat  the  Governor  of  New  York. 
Representatives  of  the  different  nations  then  in 
Washington  attended  as  an  event  of  the  day. 
And  from  the  President  down  to  the  working 
woman  to  whom  she  had  given  a  ticket,  came 
the  same  greeting  everywhere.  '  I  am  here 
because  I  know  her,  she  is  one  of  my  friends.' 
Many  a.  lesser  light  in  the  profession  can  place 
a  spotless  life  and  career  beside  this  tragedienne's  ; 
but  she  may  not  be  appreciated  for  more  than  her 
genius  or  beauty." 

So  the  Signor  talked  on  until  the  studio  of  the 
three  sisters  was  reached,  and  the  two  men  hesi- 


HAD   FATE   DECREED  6/ 

tated  at  the  door.  Clare  was  singing.  From  the 
slightly  opened  door  they  could  see  her,  and  watch 
her  as  she  sang.  But  the  spell  is  broken. 
Edythe,  beautiful  in  pale  blue,  emerges  from  her 
room  across  from  where  they  are  standing.  The 
sunlight  creeps  to  meet  her  in  the  doorway.  It 
shrinks  back,  for  the  gold  of  her  hair  makes  it  like 
unto  a  shadow. 

"  The  Signor  has  been  detained,"  she  said. 

"  Detained  by  the  magic  of  a  voice,"  he  laughed, 
as  the  two  men  entered,  and  greetings  were  ex- 
changed. 

Ghleska  dropped  in  a  moment  later,  was  intro- 
duced to  the  young  clergyman,  and  had  found  a 
seat  with  him  near  the  piano,  when  the  rehearsal 
began.  Over  and  over  again  the  same  song  they 
went,  though  it  was  ever  new  in  the  charm  of  such 
an  atmosphere. 

Then  the  singer  rested,  and  the  voice  of  the  won- 
derful violin  was  heard  in  a  solo.  The  words  might 
have  been  these  :  — 

"  Say  au  revoir,  but  not  good-by, 
For  parting  brings  a  bitter  sigh. 
The  past  is  gone,  though  memory  gives 
One  clinging  hope  —  the  future  lives. 
Our  duty  first,  love  must  not  lead 
What  might  have  been,  had  fate  decreed. 


68  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

'Twere  better  far,  had  we  not  met. 
I  loved  you  then  —  I  love  you  yet." 

It  was  a  favorite  song  of  Lonspetti's,  and  one 
which  expressed  his  own  sentiments.  The  Signer 
loved  Edythe  in  an  untiring  love,  —  her  great  beauty, 
the  softness  of  her  eyes,  and  her  voice.  He  had 
always  loved  her,  even  through  the  years  when  he 
rarely  or  never  saw  her. 

To-day,  as  she  leaned  on  the  piano  to  listen  to 
him,  he  thought  perhaps  it  would  have  been  better 
if  he  had  never  seen  her.  "  'Twere  better  far,  had 
we  not  met,"  sobbed  the  violin.  "  I  loved  you 
then —  I  love  you  yet." 

The  music  died  away.  The  young  clergyman 
rose  with  the  rest  to  congratulate  the  Signer  on  his 
wonderful  playing.  For  a  moment  he  stood  close 
to  Edythe's  side  at  the  piano.  "  What  would  she 
say  if  she  knew  how  I  cared  for  her  ? "  he  was 
thinking  to  himself  as  he  stood  there,  and  the  ques- 
tion must  have  passed  into  her  mind,  for  she  turned 
and  looked  at  him,  and  her  look  was  of  hurt  sur- 
prise. 

The  afternoon  wore  on.  Dorothy  came  in  at 
four,  laden  with  good  things  for  supper,  and  a  gen- 
eral invitation  for  the  feast  went  round.  But  Mr. 
Courtney  had  a  previous  engagement  to  dinner, 


HAD   FATE   DECREED  69 

and  Clare  was  going  to  a  reception  down  town. 
So  as  the  two  went  out,  the  Signer  opened  the 
envelope  Clare  had  put  into  his  hands. 

"  Russell,  London.  Terms  accepted.  Will  sail 
on  the  loth.  St.  Louis,  Lonspetti." 

"  So  be  it,"  he  said,  "  the  cable  shall  take  it  to- 
night." 


CHAPTER  X 
THE  PAINTER-IN-LITTLE 

AMONG  other  signs  of  struggle  and  warfare  on 
an  old  frame  dwelling  in  Sixteenth  Street,  now 
used  for  offices  and  studios,  was  the  following 

one:  — 

CHARLES  LANDMAN. 

Miniatures. 
Room  i ,  Fifth  floor. 

It  was  a  small  and  rather  inconspicuous  sign, 
but  it  told  Mr.  Landman's  business  and  where- 
abouts as  clearly  as  the  showier  sign  of  new  gilt 
which  was  nailed  above  it :  — 

THE  ELITE  STUDIO. 
Miniatures,  Portraits,  Crayons. 

Likeness  guaranteed. 
Rooms  6  &  8 ,  Second  floor. 

Mr.  Landman  noticed  the  new  sign  as  he  came 
from  his  studio  that  morning.  He  had  seen  the 
same  space  occupied  by  various  others  during  his 
three  years  there.  There  was  never  a  week  passed 
but  that  some  unfortunate  moved  away  to  make 
room  for  some  other  genius  to  try  his  luck  there. 

70 


THE   PAINTER-IN-LITTLE  /I 

Mr.  Landman  laughed  at  them  all.  He  had 
been  so  unfortunate  himself,  and  so  pursued  and 
overwhelmed  by  misfortune,  that  he  had  a  sneer 
for  every  one.  He  painted  excellent  miniatures, 
but  few  people  had  heard  of  him.  His  work  had 
failed  to  reach  the  eyes  and  approbation  of  New 
York's  Four  Hundred,  and  he  railed  against  fate 
when  he  mused  on  his  failure. 

He  was  hardly  out  of  sight  of  the  studio  when 
Edythe  and  Mr.  Courtney  sought  out  the  dingy 
little  sign. 

"  It  is  here,"  said  Edythe,  as  she  stopped  before 
it.  "Charles  Landman,  Miniatures.  He  was  on 
Broadway  when  I  last  knew  of  him.  He  was  then 
with  Serrano." 

They  entered  and  mounted  the  well-worn  stairs, 
three  long  flights  to  the  fifth  floor.  "  There  should 
be  an  elevator,"  Mr.  Courtney  expostulated  as 
Edythe  paused  on  the  fourth  flight.  "  How  can 
an  artist  ever  expect  people  to  undertake  such 
difficulties  for  him  when  there  are  other  artists 
nearer  earth  ? " 

"  But  there  are  no  expenses  in  heaven,  we  are 
led  to  believe,"  came  the  quick  reply,  "and  the 
nearer  one  lives  to  it,  the  less  he  pays." 

"  That's  an  admirable   epigram  of  yours,  Mrs. 


72  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

Merrall,"  laughed  Mr.  Courtney,  "  and  a  true 
one." 

Another  long  flight,  and  the  studio  was  before 
them.  It  was  a  large  front  room,  and  the  door 
was  standing  slightly  ajar.  A  cool  breeze  wel- 
comed them  as  they  entered. 

It  was  an  artistic  place,  the  home  of  this  painter- 
in-little.  The  walls  were  hung  with  Japanese 
drapery,  while  the  four  corners  of  the  room  and 
the  skylight  were  screened  from  view  by  Japanese 
umbrellas.  A  small  oak  chest  in  a  corner  held  his 
wardrobe,  and  a  larger  one,  partly  opened,  revealed 
kettles,  pans,  and  crockery.  There  were  two 
divans  in  the  room,  a  large  screen,  which  shielded 
a  small  gas  stove  from  view,  two  or  three  prettily 
draped  chairs,  a  table,  an  easel,  and  a  study  lamp. 
The  floor  was  covered  with  a  straw  matting,  and 
pretty  rugs  were  scattered  here  and  there.  But 
nothing  attracted  Mr.  Courtney's  attention  so 
much  as  the  two  paintings  that  hung  between  the 
windows.  One  was  a  colonial  governor,  the  other 
an  officer  on  horseback,  a  general  of  1812.  With 
imperious  looks  they  held  their  haughty  heads 
above  their  Bohemian  surroundings.  Mr.  Court- 
ney was  about  to  speak  of  them  when  he  noticed 
that  Edythe  had  taken  a  seat  near  the  window  and 


THE   PAINTER-IN-LITTLE  73 

was  reading  a  letter.     He  knew  the  contents,  for 
she  had  read  it  to  him. 

"Mv  DEAR  EDYTHE  "  (it  began): 

"  The  boys  ask  me  to  thank  you  for  the  books 
and  bonbons  received  last  week.  Maurice  has 
been  out  but  once  since  we  brought  him  here,  and 
then  for  a  very  short  drive.  He  is  no  longer  able 
to  walk,  and  his  little  remaining  strength  is  pass- 
ing. I  do  not  think  he  realizes  things  as  they  are, 
for  he  looks  for  your  return  every  day.  His  one 
wish  to  his  father  is  for  a  picture  of  you.  Perhaps 
your  sisters  may  have  one,  which,  though  not  re- 
cently taken,  would  be  new  to  him.  Geoffrey  and 
I  would  be  very  much  gratified  if  you  can  send 

one. 

"Sincerely,  K.  H.  M." 

For  Maurice's  sake,  she  was  to  sit  for  a  minia- 
ture. Mr.  Courtney  saw  her  sigh  as  she  folded  up 
her  mother-in-law's  letter  again,  and  put  it  in  her 
pocket. 

"  Poor  little  boy !  "  she  thought,  "  if  I  only  cared 
for  your  father,  but  it  was  not  your  fault.  Ah, 
what  we  have  to  suffer  for  other  people's  mistakes ! " 

She  was  musing  thus,  when  Mr.  Landman  en- 
tered. He  was  a  short  man,  slight  and  dark.  He 


74  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

brought  with  him  into  their  presence  a  great  feel- 
ing of  discontent  and  unhappiness.  His  guests 
felt  it  as  he  entered.  He  came  forward  quickly, 
shook  hands  with  Edythe,  and  was  introduced  to 
Mr.  Courtney. 

"I  have  been  admiring  these  two  old  portraits 
of  yours,"  remarked  the  clergyman.  "  One  seldom 
sees  such  splendid  faces." 

The  artist  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  and  looked 
at  Mr.  Courtney  critically. 

"  You  admire  them  because  they  are  gentle- 
men of  the  old  school,"  he  said.  "  Only  a  de- 
scendant of  good  stock  can  appreciate  them. 
I  see  that  you  come  of  it." 

Mr.  Courtney  bowed  an  acknowledgment. 

"  I  know  such  when  I  see  it,"  continued  the 
artist.  "  I  come  of  an  old  family  myself.  I  am 
ashamed  to  belong  to  them  for  they  were  such 
worthy  men  and  women.  Mrs.  Merrall  knows 
my  uncle,  Admiral  Landman,  and  my  mother's 
brother  has  represented  this  country  at  two 
foreign  courts." 

"You  interest  me,"  said  the  clergyman. 

The  conversation  drifted  to  other  things,  and 
then  to  the  object  of  their  visit.  "  I  have  come 
to  have  you  paint  my  miniature,"  Edythe  said 


THE   PAINTER-IN-LITTLE  75 

after  a  momentary  silence.  "I  want  it  for  a 
present,  and  would  like  it  as  soon  as  you  can 
do  it." 

"  Would  to-morrow  morning  be  convenient  for 
a  sitting  ? "  said  the  artist 

"  You  couldn't  commence  it  to-day  ?  I  am  in 
somewhat  of  a  hurry  for  it." 

"  Hardly.  I  have  one  on  hand  that  must  be 
finished  and  delivered  by  to-night." 

"Then  I  will  be  here  very  early  in  the  morn- 
ing," said  Edythe,  as  Mr.  Courtney  and  she 
rose  to  go. 

"  I  will  be  ready,"  was  the  reply.  Mr.  Land- 
man  escorted  them  to  the  landing,  apologizing 
for  the  absence  of  an  elevator. 

Once  out  they  talked  of  Landman  and  his 
art.  "  He's  a  clever  fellow,"  said  Edythe,  when 
they  were  seated  in  a  carriage  on  their  way 
home.  "He  is  one  of  the  world  of  unrecog- 
nized geniuses,  and  his  realization  of  the  fact 
has  soured  his  entire  nature." 

"  I  felt  the  discontent  when  I  shook  hands 
with  him,"  said  Courtney;  "there  is  a  look  of 
utter  hopelessness  in  his  eyes,  which  as  he  talks 
turns  to  defiance.  One  would  suppose  the  whole 
world  was  against  him." 


76  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

"  He  has  a  fancy  that  it  is,"  said  Edythe.  "  I 
feel  for  him  for  we  have  known  him  ever  since 
he  came  to  New  York.  He  has  done  some 
very  excellent  work;  but  his  sitters,  I  fancy, 
are  few  and  far  between.  New  York  is  a 
burying-ground  for  geniuses  without  money  or 
influence.  I  have  sent  him  a  good  many  sitters ; 
but  his  acquired  brusqueness  and  discontent  were 
not  liked.  He  feels  himself  on  an  equal  with 
the  best,  and  will  not  play  your  humble  servant 
to  any  but  an  aristocrat.  It  is  a,  poor  policy." 

"You  would  think  that  all  these  years  of  ex- 
perience would  have  shown  him  his  failings." 

"  If  they  have,  he  surely  has  not  profited  by 
them." 

At  Fifty-sixth  Street,  Edythe,  at  Mr.  Court- 
ney's suggestion,  got  out  and  sauntered  toward 
the  Park.  It  was  a  beautiful  afternoon,  and  the 
Park  was  filled  with  people,  both  on  foot  and 
in  carriages. 

"  I  thought  we  ought  to  take  advantage  of 
such  a  day  for  a  walk,"  said  Mr.  Courtney.  "  I 
imagine  that  you  do  not  take  much  exercise." 

Edythe  laughed.  "  I  take  a  brisk  walk  every 
morning  while  half  the  city  is  yet  sleeping." 

They  had  sauntered  into  a  little-used  pathway 


THE   PAINTER-IN  LITTLE  77 

to  escape  the  dust  of  the  carriages,  and  had 
gone  but  a  short  distance  when  they  came  face 
to  face  with  another  pedestrian,  alone  and  think- 
ing. It  was  the  Rev.  Thomas  Mcllvaine,  rector 
of  Calvary  Church. 

What  his  sensations  were  on  meeting  his  assist- 
ant with  Mrs.  Merrall  are  not  recorded  here. 
He  simply  raised  his  hat  and  passed  on. 


CHAPTER  XI 

CHARITY 

WHETHER  the  Rev.  Dr.  Thomas  Mcllvaine 
spoke  to  Mr.  Courtney  on  the  incident  of  the 
past  week  is  not  known.  There  was  a  letter 
for  him  in  the  doctor's  handwriting  on  his  study 
table  when  he  returned  that  evening ;  but  as 
mutual  work  brought  their  interests  together,  it 
may  have  been  many  things  that  demanded  Mr. 
Courtney's  presence  at  the  rectory  that  evening. 

Whatever  the  nature  of  the  visit,  it  was  soon 
over,  and  from  the  fact  that  Dr.  Mcllvaine  es- 
corted his  assistant  part  way  home,  and  shook 
hands  pleasantly  with  him  at  parting,  it  is  to 
be  supposed  that  the  meeting  had  ended  to 
both  men's  satisfaction. 

The  miniature  of  Edythe  had  progressed  with 
the  days,  and  on  the  forenoon  that  he  was  put- 
ting the  finishing  touches  to  it,  Mr.  Landman 
was  surprised  to  see  Mr.  Courtney  enter. 

"  I  dropped  in  to  see  the  miniature,"  he  said, 
78 


CHARITY  79 

as  an  apology  for  the  intrusion.  "  Our  common 
friend,  Signer  Lonspetti,  told  me  it  was  worth 
going  a  long  journey  to  see." 

"  He  exaggerated,  then,"  said  the  artist,  though 
with  a  little  more  than  usual  enthusiasm  in  his 
voice.  "Of  course  I  couldn't  make  a  poor 
picture  with  so  beautiful  a  subject,  though  I 
confess  I  found  it  difficult  to  do  justice  to  her 
colouring." 

"She  is  an  exceptionally  beautiful  woman," 
said  Mr.  Courtney,  as  he  came  forward  and  took 
the  miniature  in  his  hands.  Mr.  Landman  saw 
the  young  clergyman's  face  brighten  as  he  looked 
at  it.  "  I  never  saw  such  a  good  likeness  of 
any  one  in  my  life,"  he  said,  "never,"  and  his 
words  were  true. 

It  was  Edythe,  the  living  and  beautiful,  that 
glanced  up  at  him  from  the  ivory  oval.  There  was 
a  sadness,  a  quiet  look  in  the  eyes  which  was  so 
individually  hers.  Her  lips  were  slightly  parted, 
as  if  she  were  about  to  say  something,  when  some 
one  else  had  ceased  talking.  The  nose,  every 
feature  was  wonderfully  realistic. 

"  So  you  like  it  ?  "  said  Landman. 

"  I  should  admire  it  if  I  had  never  met  or  seen 
Mrs.  Merrall,"  was  the  reply.  "There  is  inspira- 


80  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

tion  in  the  face.  By  the  way,  Mr.  Landman,  when 
you  have  time,  don't  you  want  to  make  me  a  dupli- 
cate ? "  Then  he  added  :  "I'm  fond  of  miniatures. 
I  am  starting  a  collection."  It  was  on  his  tongue 
to  say  that  he  had  a  collection ;  but  he  had  refrained 
at  just  the  right  moment. 

"  I  never  do  make  duplicates  of  any  of  my  pic- 
tures," Landman  said,  after  a  moment's  thought  on 
the  subject.  "  I  should  prefer  not  to  make  the  two 
pictures  alike." 

"  But  I  want  mine  like  this  one,"  Mr.  Courtney 
persisted.  "You  couldn't  please  me  better  than 
to  make  an  exact  copy ;  the  two  miniatures  will 
never  come  together,  nor  even  know  of  each 
other's  existence.  By  the  way,  when  did  you 
intend  to  take  this  to  Mrs.  Merrall  ? " 

"  To-morrow  afternoon,"  replied  Landman.  "  It 
is  to  go  by  special  messenger  to  Newport  on  the 
five-o'clock  boat.  However,  I  should  be  able  to 
do  something  toward  a  copy  by  that  time." 

"  Do  what  you  can,"  said  Mr.  Courtney,  as  he 
took  the  artist's  hand  in  parting,  "  and  I  will  for- 
ever be  your  debtor." 

The  artist  continued  at  his  work,  and  Mr.  Court- 
ney took  a  hansom  to  the  Park,  —  that  paradise  for 
dreamers.  In  his  thoughts  was  the  face  in  the 


CHARITY  8 1 

miniature  —  the  face  of  the  only  woman  he  had 
ever  loved.  He  acknowledged  it  to  himself.  It 
was  a  relief  to  even  think  it,  for  his  conscience  was 
troubling  him  as  in  truth  it  had  never  troubled  him 
before.  His  conscience  had  been  warning  and 
advising  him,  and,  like  a  stubborn  child,  he  said 
to  it,  "  Whatever  comes,  I  can't  help  it ;  I  love 
her."  Then  conscience  said  to  him,  "She  can 
never  be  anything  to  you,"  and  the  thought 
angered  him.  "What,"  he  said  to  himself,  "are 
we  put  here  for,  if  we  can  never  attain  our 
desires  ? "  His  conscience  and  his  will  were  hav- 
ing a  hard  mental  battle.  He  almost  wished  he 
had  no  conscience,  as  it  interfered  with  every 
thought  of  his,  and  every  hope  for  the  future. 
"  Keep  at  your  work,"  said  the  voice,  "  keep  at 
your  work." 

In  the  Park  he  met  many  pedestrians  like  him- 
self. Most  of  them  looked  happy  and  satisfied. 
He  noticed  the  young  girls  as  they  passed  him, 
and  he  saw  how  plain  they  all  were  to  the  singular 
type  of  beauty  he  had  met  in  Mrs.  Merrall.  It 
seemed  to  him  that  she  must  be  the  only  perfectly 
beautiful  woman  in  the  world.  He  had  never  seen 
such  eyes  as  hers,  or  such  a  grace  of  manner  and 
bearing.  To  him,  since  he  had  known  her,  all 


82  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

women  were  awkward  and  commonplace.  He 
had  watched  her  when  she  was  not  conscious  of  it, 
—  on  the  street,  in  the  house,  —  and  he  noticed  that 
others  were  not  slow  in  remarking  of  her  beauty 
when  she  passed.  The  shop  girl  would  often  ask 
her  to  repeat  an  order  just  to  hear  her  voice  again, 
and  comment  upon  its  sweetness  afterward.  Per- 
haps her  stage  training  had  modulated  her  voice 
into  its  wonderful  expression,  or  it  might  have 
been  a  natural  gift ;  at  least,  so  Rodgers  Courtney 
thought  it,  as  he  strolled  along  and  dreamed  about 
her.  He  wondered  now  how  he  could  ever  have 
believed  the  stories  of  her  insanity  and  jealousy 
that  he  had  heard  in  the  drawing-rooms  of  his 
parishioners.  "A  beautiful  and  talented  woman," 
he  thought,  "  is  always  the  target  for  evil  speakers 
and  gossips."  He  did  not  endeavour  to  solve  that 
greater  conundrum,  Why  she  had  left  her  home 
and  her  children,  and  among  them  a  dying  boy,  or 
why  —  At  the  present  moment  he  didn't  wish  to 
connect  her  with  any  other  life  than  his.  In  his 
heart  he  thought  her  blameless  and  misrepresented, 
unselfish  and  unhappy;  but  all  the  time  his  con- 
science was  rebuking  him,  and  he  would  not 
heed  it. 

It  had  grown  dark,  and  the  Park  had  become 


CHARITY  83 

deserted  before  Rodgers  Courtney  realized  how 
long  he  had  been  there.  Something  awoke  him 
to  his  surroundings,  and  he  found  himself  still 
walking  —  and  thinking. 

But  some  of  his  thoughts  that  afternoon  were 
not  in  vain,  for  the  following  Sunday  morning 
the  Reverend  John  Rodgers  Courtney  made  for 
himself  a  name  in  his  calling,  when  he  preached 
to  the  congregation  of  Calvary  Church  one  of  the 
most  eloquent  sermons  of  the  day  on  the  subject 
of  "Charity" 


CHAPTER   XII 

MADAME   MARIE 

THERE  is  a  momentary  stillness  in  the  studio. 
The  artists  are  silent  at  their  different  occupations. 
Lonspetti  has  for  the  moment  ceased  playing. 
Ghleska  is  jotting  down  a  passing  inspiration. 
The  door  opens,  and  a  child,  accompanied  by  a 
woman  in  heavy  crape,  hesitates  on  the  threshold. 
It  is  Madame  Marie.  With  one  cry  of  joy  the 
artists  rush  to  meet  her.  One  after  the  other  is 
welcomed,  each  in  their  turn  and  in  her  affection. 
"  My  friends,  my  dear,  dear  friends  ! "  she  repeated, 
"  and  all  together  as  of  old." 

For  a  moment  she  was  overcome  with  emotion, 
and  there  were  tears  in  all  eyes  save  the  child's. 
She  had  very  large,  wide-open  eyes,  and  she 
regarded  them  all  individually  and  with  interest. 
She  had  until  now  been  greatly  hidden  by  the 
heavy  folds  of  Madame  Marie's  crape  veil,  being  a 
small  girl  of  six ;  but  she  walked  out  from  it  now, 
and  crossed  the  room  where  Madame  Marie's 

84 


MADAME   MARIE  85 

portrait  attracted  her.  "  Grandmere,"  she  said 
with  decision,  "grandmere,  that's  you." 

Then  a  laugh  rang  through  the  great  studio. 
"  This  is  my  granddaughter  Consuelo,"  said 
Madame,  brightening  up.  "  She  is  a  stranger  to 
you,  but  she  comes  as  a  friend."  The  child  turned 
at  the  mention  of  her  name,  and  smiled.  She  was 
small,  but  she  held  herself  with  all  the  grace  and 
dignity  of  a  princess.  Her  head  was  well  poised. 
She  had  remarkably  fine,  strong  shoulders  and  a 
beautiful  face.  "  She  is  something  like  you, 
Madame,"  said  Lonspetti,  as  he  took  her  up. 
"  She  has  your  determined  expression,  the  same 
mouth,  and  the  same  broad,  fine  forehead." 

"The  determination  of  my  youth,"  sighed 
Marie.  "  I  have  come  back  to  you  a  wreck  of  my 
former  self.  I  have  been  through  every  ill  that 
flesh  is  heir  to." 

"  But  you  were  all  life  and  happiness  when  you 
sailed  away,"  said  Ghleska.  "  I  have  been  abroad 
twice  since  then,  but  neither  time  were  you  near 
London." 

Edythe  had  removed  the  heavy  bonnet  and  veil, 
and  the  grand  face  of  Camille  Marie  looked  at  them 
with  all  her  old-time  beauty.  "  I  wear  crape  for 
my  buried  youth,"  she  said,  half  smiling,  as  she 


86  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

loosened  it.  "  Youth  was  so  kind  to  me,  she  was 
such  a  friend." 

"  As  if  she  were  not  with  you  as  of  old,"  said 
Lonspetti.  "  I  never  saw  one  so  unchanged  in  my 
life.  The  ten  years  of  rest  have  released  years 
instead  of  adding  them,"  and  into  the  great  gray 
eyes  there  came  a  look  of  gratitude. 

"  Well,  I  intend  to  be  myself  again  now  that  I 
am  back  with  you,"  said  Marie,  happily,  as  she 
rose  and  sauntered  about  the  room.  "  Emma 
has  come  back  to  America  and  has  gone  to  Balti- 
more." 

"  But  dear  father  isn't  with  us,"  said  the  child, 
anxiously. 

"Nor  is  he  likely  to  be,"  added  Marie.  "The 
longer  he  keeps  away  from  us  the  more  of  a 
gentleman  I  shall  think  him.  The  child  hasn't 
seen  him  for  over  two  years  ;  yet  she  is  always 
reminding  us  of  his  unfortunate  existence." 

"Then  the  marriage  was  not  a  happy  one?" 
said  Edythe. 

"  Happy,"  sighed  the  woman ;  "  it  must  have 
been  planned  by  the  evil  one  himself.  I  find  he 
makes  many  marriages  nowadays." 

"  He  is  a  nice,  nice  man,"  said  Consuelo.  "  He 
is  my  father,  and  some  day  he  is  going  to  build 


MADAME   MARIE  87 

me  a  beautiful  castle,  and  we  are  all  to  live  there 
together." 

"  I  don't  know  where  he  expects  to  build  it, 
unless  he  has  made  some  arrangements  with 
another  world,"  said  Marie,  "and  I  don't  propose, 
with  Heaven's  help,  to  share  another  world  with 
him." 

"  But  there  is  only  going  to  be  one  heaven,  grand- 
mere,"  said  the  child,  "and  you  are  going  there, 
are  you  not  ? " 

"  I  am  not  bidden  anywhere  at  the  present 
moment,"  laughed  Marie,  for  the  others  were 
laughing ;  "  but  wherever  I  may  go  later,  I  have 
enough  confidence  in  Heaven  to  know  that  wher- 
ever they  place  Frederic  Lees,  they  will  never  ask 
me." 

Then  the  conversation  turned  to  the  artists,  their 
work,  and  their  progress.  "  Clare  was  such  a  little 
girl  when  I  went  away,"  said  Marie.  "  I  could 
hardly  realize  her  being  the  same  girl  you  sent 
over  for  study  in  Paris  two  years  ago." 

"  Well,  she  has  done  splendidly,"  said  Dorothy. 
"  She  was  abroad  only  a  little  more  than  a  year, 
and  she  names  her  own  prices  now." 

Madame  Marie  smiled.  "  How  grand  success 
is  !  "  she  said.  "  My  hopes  and  ambitions  have  all 


88  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

been  realized,  and  are  now  bound  volumes  in  my 
life's  bookcase.  I  can  read  them  over,  but  I  can 
never  rewrite  or  change  them.  I  spoke  a  few 
months  ago  in  London  at  a  young  ladies'  school 
commencement  I  told  them  that  all  of  them  had 
an  ambition  in  life.  We  all  have  a  right  to  build 
our  castles,  for  the  property  of  the  air  is  free  and 
without  taxes.  I  have  built  mine,  first  in  air,  next 
in  resolution,  and  last  in  victory.  '  Your  ambition,' 
I  told  them,  '  can  be  no  greater  than  mine.  My 
hopes  lay  in  a  somewhere,  and  I  had  to  find  out 
which  of  the  roads  would  lead  me  to  safety.  In 
starting  out  in  life,  there  are  many  roads.  They 
have  all  been  trespassed,  the  narrowest  pathway  is 
clear  of  weeds.  "Which  one  shall  I  take?"  you 
ask  as  you  see  them.  None  of  the  roads  has  a 
sign  to  mark  it.  One  is  the  road  you  are  seeking, 
the  others  may  lead  to  a  wilderness.  There  are 
thousands  already  stranded  in  their  midst.  The 
road  to  success  can  only  be  found  by  work,  real 
work,  pluck,  and  perseverance.'  Since  my  retire- 
ment," continued  Marie,  "  I  have  seen  and  studied 
much  of  human  nature.  It  is  a  world  of  rivalry, 
a  game  of  chance,  where  influence  is  trump  card. 
Every  field  to-day  is  overcrowded ;  the  schools  of 
art,  acting,  painting,  and  singing  are  turning  out 


MADAME   MARIE  89 

aspirants  by  the  score.  The  ranks  of  literature 
have  for  years  been  almost  impassable.  It  is 
impossible  to  reach  the  real  genius  in  such  long, 
solid  blocks  of  humanity.  Is  it  then  to  be  won- 
dered at  that  genius  must  stand  aside  for  money  and 
influence  ?  It  is  like  a  violet  at  the  foot  of  a  rock." 

"  And  I  have  noticed,"  said  Edythe,  "  that  when 
people  have  attained  every  success  and  power, 
they  seldom  help  struggling  contemporaries." 

"  Quite  so,"  said  Madame ;  "as  a  new  star 
awakeneth  the  astronomer,  so  a  new  genius 
arouses  the  interest  of  the  public.  The  morning 
star  has  short  life  enough  without  dividing  its 
golden  moments  with  another  one.  The  public 
is  fickle ;  it  seldom  adopts  but  one  child  at  a  time 
—  twins  wouldn't  have  a  week's  caressing." 

"  Quite  so,  quite  so,"  echoed  Lonspetti ;  "  let  us 
each  share  the  throne  of  fame  alone,  for  we  are 
hardly  seated  before  we  are  told  that  the  public 
has  found  a  successor.  To  be  a  '  fad '  means  a 
happy  but  a  very  short  life." 

"  And  to  divide  the  precious  time,"  said  Ma- 
dame, "no  two  stars  can  ever  expect  to  shine 
together  in  perfect  peace  and  harmony  outside  of 
heaven ;  and  even  there  we  are  told  that  one  star 
differeth  from  another  star  in  glory." 


90  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

"Well,  I  don't  expect  or  want  to  be  a  public 
idol,"  said  Edythe.  "  My  idea  in  returning  to  the 
stage  is  for  the  work  and  the  love  of  it.  I  don't 
expect  or  aspire  to  be  your  successor,"  she  added, 
as  she  turned  to  Madame  Marie;  "to  be  num- 
bered among  your  friends  is  the  nearest  approach 
I  can  make  to  greatness." 

"I  don't  approve  of  people  talking  of  other 
men's  cast-off  clothing,"  laughed  Madame,  "  espe- 
cially their  old  shoes.  They  never  fit.  Each  year 
changes  the  cut  of  them,  and  often  the  originals 
wear  out  all  their  good  qualities  before  they  reach 
a  successor.  I  approve  of  starting  in  life  with 
one's  own  boots.  I  know  I  had  to  break  in  a 
new  pair." 

"  I,  too,"  added  Ghleska.  "  When  I  commenced 
my  career,  people  said  my  method  was  a  mad 
one." 

"  You  ought  to  be  thankful  that  they  gave  you 
credit  for  a  method  at  all,"  suggested  Madame. 
"  People  used  to  say  of  Johann  Ysaye  that  he 
played  only  by  inspiration,  never  the  same  piece 
twice." 

"Of  course  you  know  Ysaye's  dead?"  said 
Dorothy. 

"  Yes,"  sighed  Marie,  "  I  was  shocked  to  hear 


MADAME   MARIE  91 

of  it.  He  never  lived  to  prove  his  assertions  that 
he  had  discovered  a  new  art  in  music.  People 
are  always  suspicious  of  discoveries." 

As  she  spoke,  she  glanced  about  her.  "  Where 
is  Consuelo  ?  "  she  asked.  "  She  is  in  mischief, 
for  I  hear  broken  music." 

"  My  Stradivarius !  "  cried  Lonspetti ;  "  my  violin 
has  been  taken  away !  " 

From  the  deep  shadows  of  the  studio  came  the 
broken  melody,  and  in  a  secluded  corner  Lon- 
spetti discovered  his  unhappy  violin.  Consuelo 
had  it.  She  was  sitting  on  a  low  ottoman,  the 
helpless  instrument  lay  at  her  mercy  across  her 
knees.  Her  small  head  was  bent  over  it,  and 
between  the  troublesome  curls  her  small  white 
fingers  touched  the  strings.  She  rose  at  being 
discovered  and  waited  for  approval.  "  I  haven't 
hurt  it,  Mr.  Lonspetti,"  she  said,  as  they  all  looked 
at  her.  "  I  wouldn't  have  touched  it,  but  I  love 
music  so." 

Lonspetti's  look  of  fear  turned  to  love  for  the 
child.  "  She  shall  hear  me  play,"  said  the  Signer ; 
"  but  we  must  wait  for  Clare,  who  will  be  back 
presently." 

"  Then  she  inherits  your  love  and  her  mother's 
for  music,"  said  Edythe,  as  the  violin  was 


92  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

removed  to  a  safer  place.  "It  is  a  rich  inheri- 
tance." 

Madame  Marie  sighed.  "  Sometimes  I  think 
it  is  not,"  she  said.  "  Her  mother  with  all  her 
genius  has  never  made  her  expenses.  It  has  been 
a  continual  clearing  of  my  bank  account,  though." 

"  Money  begets  money,  you  know,"  said 
Dorothy.  "  One  can't  do  anything  in  the  world 
without  it." 

"  Well,  I  know  that  I  had  no  bank  account  to 
draw  on  when  I  commenced  my  career,"  said 
Madame,  "and  every  cent  I  made  was  well  earned. 

"  If  I  had  been  a  wise  woman,  I  should  have 
bought  Emma's  operas  outright  and  burnt  them. 
It  would  have  been  a  small  sum  to  acting  as 
backer  and  banker  for  them,  and  then  there  would 
have  been  less  lost" 

"  I  like  my  mother's  operas,"  suggested  Con- 
suelo,  blushing.  "They  are  very  pretty." 

"  Well,  every  one  will  have  a  chance  to  decide 
as  to  that,"  laughed  Madame.  "  Emma  will  be 
in  New  York  next  week  to  get  together  some 
singers,  for  she  expects  to  tour  the  principal  cities 
with  her  operas  this  fall ;  and  if  successful,  of 
course  will  try  New  York." 

"  She  was  successful  with  her  '  La  Belle  Fleu- 


MADAME   MARIE  93 

rette/ "  said  Edythe,  "  and  that  was  twelve  or 
more  years  ago.  I  remember  how  well  she  con- 
ducted it." 

"  She  ought  to  have  remained  in  this  country," 
said  Madame,  "  instead  of  going  abroad.  For- 
tune cannot  be  tampered  with.  I  believe  in 
staying  when  one  strikes  gold.  There  is  a  tide 
in  the  affairs  of  men  which  taken  at  the  flood 
leads  on  to  fortune." 

"  And  there  is  a  time  at  the  close  of  day  which 
taken  at  the  call  leads  on  to  supper,"  echoed 
Clare.  "  Come,  it  is  ready." 

Ghleska,  who  had  until  now  been  composing, 
came  out  of  the  darkness  to  join  the  rest,  and 
supper  proceeded. 

After  that  there  was  music.  Lonspetti  played 
his  "  wonder  violin,"  much  to  the  delight  of  Con- 
suelo.  Ghleska  also  played,  Clare  sang,  and 
Madame  Marie  told  anecdotes.  The  child  Con- 
suelo  fell  asleep  on  a  divan. 

"  I'm  going  to  hunt  up  my  trophies,"  said 
Madame,  as  she  looked  about  her,  "  and  give  Lon- 
spetti and  Clare  a  send-off  in  true  royal  fashion 
next  week.  Emma  will  be  back  on  Monday,  and 
we  can  have  the  affair  Tuesday  night." 

They  all  applauded  the  announcement.    "  Mean- 


94  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

while  I'll  hunt  up  my  worldly  goods  and  friends, 
and  each  and  all  of  you  invite  your  colleagues." 

"And  we'll  invite  the  Mather  sisters,  won't 
we,  Grandmere  ? "  said  a  sleepy  voice  from  the 
divan. 

"  Yes,  pet,  the  little  Mathers  surely,  the  two 
sweetest  girls  in  the  world.  Consuelo  is  wild 
over  them,"  she  added,  turning.  "We  met  them 
in  London,  and  fortunately  came  over  on  the  same 
steamer  with  them  on  returning  home." 

"Are  they  the  twin  sisters  Mather,  or  an  'imi- 
tation '  ? "  said  Ghleska. 

"They  are  an  imitation  of  each  other  only," 
replied  Madame,  "none  other.  They  captured 
London,  king  and  peasant.  They  were  enter- 
tained at  Marlborough  House  and  many  ducal 
houses,  and  they  are  but  seventeen." 

"  It  is  wonderful  how  American  artists  are 
recognized  abroad,"  said  Ghleska.  "  How  true  it 
is  that  a  man  is  not  without  honour  save  in  his 
own  country." 

"  Yes,"  said  Madame,  "yet  to  his  own  country  he 
looks  for  what  is  greater  than  fame,  —  protection. 
No  matter  how  many  thousands  of  miles  I  am  from 
home,  I  always  have  in  my  room  the  stars  and 
the  stripes." 


MADAME   MARIE  95 

Lonspetti  sighed.  "  I  am  a  man  without  a 
country  and  without  a  home.  My  family  have 
taken  my  name  from  the  record  as  one  unknown, 
and  I  have  done  nothing  to  deserve  it.  I  often 
wonder  when  I  pass  from  this  world  how  I  am  to 
be  known  and  recognized  in  another.  Lonspetti 
is  not  my  name,  neither  have  I  the  one  I  was 
born  under.  I  have  no  wife  or  children  to  share 
another  existence  with  me,  so  I  suppose  I  shall  be 
classed  among  the  numberless  unfortunates  as  a 
stranger  and  unknown." 

Edythe  wiped  the  tears  from  her  eyes.  Lon- 
spetti had  taken  up  his  violin  to  depart,  and  as  he 
did  so  he  drew  the  bow  across  the  magic  strings. 
"  And  I  shall  be  denied  even  this  in  another 
existence,"  he  said,  as  he  finished,  and  he  put  it 
tenderly  in  its  case. 

Madame  Marie  put  on  her  bonnet  and  awak- 
ened the  child.  Ghleska  was  to  accompany  them 
home,  and  so  they  all  started  together.  Consuelo 
put  her  little  arms  around  each  of  the  artists' 
necks  and  kissed  them  good  night.  Then  she 
groped  with  half-closed  eyes  for  the  hallway, 
where  the  others  awaited  her.  Edythe  noticed 
it,  and  went  forward.  "  She  is  too  sleepy  to  go, 
Marie,"  she  said,  as  she  took  her  up.  "  Let  her 


96  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

stay  here  with  us,  and  I'll  bring  her  over  in  the 
morning." 

"  Tres  bien,"  said  Madame,  and  then  they  all 
said  good  night  again,  and  were  gone. 

And  against  the  heart  refused  to  her  own  chil- 
dren, Edythe  held  the  child  Consuelo  that  night. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

STARLIGHT   ON  SHORE 

"  To  a  short  life,  but  a  merry  one." 

IT  is  a  vast,  dimly  lighted  apartment.  Shadows 
are  lurking  in  the  corners.  It  is  nearing  time 
for  them  to  be  away,  for  soon  the  guests  come, 
bringing  with  them  music,  life,  and  merriment. 
Shadows  are  ghosts ;  the  living  must  not  be  re- 
minded of  any  future  existence  such  a  night  as 
this.  'Tis  no  time  for  other  thoughts  than  the 
present.  Fill  up  the  glasses  and  drink,  together 
and  with  one  spirit,  for  to-morrow  we  pass  on 
with  no  further  word. 

Madame  Marie  enters  and  at  a  slight  pressure 
of  a  button  floods  the  long  rooms  with  light.  She 
is  a  striking  contrast  to  the  colours  that  are  about 
her.  Her  dress  is  black;  the  square-cut  bodice 
is  of  English  crape ;  the  long  train  is  bordered 
with  it,  and  there  are  heavy  folds  of  it  about  the 
small  white  wrists.  On  one  shoulder  is  a  jew- 
elled decoration  with  "  Marie  "  in  diamonds  which 

97 


98  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

somewhat  relieves  the  sombreness.  Below  it  is 
an  immense  sunburst  with  a  ruby  centre  of  rare 
value.  An  arrow  of  the  same  crosses  the  waist 
from  the  other  shoulder,  where  a  small  jewelled 
bird  is  resting  as  if  to  take  flight  ere  a  moment. 
It  is  a  dress  that  only  Camille  Marie  could  have 
planned,  and  only  she  of  all  women  could  grace 
with  such  effect.  Her  heavy  Titian  hair,  a  vic- 
tory of  age  over  youth,  is  dressed  high.  There 
is  a  heavily  carved  comb  of  tortoise  shell  on  one 
side.  Madame  Marie  has  said,  "When  youth 
leaves,  it  generally  takes  some  of  its  best  clothes 
with  it ;  but  when  youth  is  in  love  with  a  beautiful 
woman,  she  holdeth  him  at  her  will." 

No  queen  ever  had  the  regal  bearing  of  the 
great  tragedienne.  Her  step,  her  mere  crossing 
of  a  room  was  an  education  in  itself.  She  had 
held  the  attention  of  audiences  by  her  mere 
presence  and  magnetism.  She  never  acted,  she 
became  the  woman  she  was  impersonating.  When 
a  woman  can  take  an  audience  back  with  her  to 
historical  times;  can  raise  up  a  memory  so  vivid 
that  it  has  new  life  and  the  seeming  same  heart 
and  face ;  can  tell  her  wrongs  so  that  genera- 
tions long  after  her  suffer,  then  she  may  be  called 
an  actress.  Such  was  the  power  of  Marie. 


STARLIGHT   ON   SHORE  99 

As  she  looked  about  her,  she  marvelled  at  the 
transformation  of  the  rooms.  A  great  palm 
reaching  to  the  frescos  of  the  ceiling  was  in  the 
centre  of  the  room,  other  palms  stood  in  every 
nook  and  corner.  Madame  Marie  had  directed 
too  many  stage  effects  not  to  be  a  master  of  art 
in  the  beautiful.  About  the  two  rooms  were 
souvenirs  of  her  wonderful  stage  reign,  and  gifts 
of  all  kinds  from  the  greatest  to  the  humblest  of 
men.  The  collection  had  never  been  seen  to- 
gether before.  The  great  collection  of  rare  china 
and  laces  on  which  Madame  Marie  had  spent  a 
fortune  was  in  glass  cases  in  one  of  the  smaller 
rooms.  "They  represent  a  wild  fortune  and  extrav- 
agance," Madame  Marie  has  said ;  "  but  why  not 
our  fads  and  fancies,  the  earth  stay  is  so  uncer- 
tain and  hurried  ? "  There  are  some  portraits 
about  the  room :  one  of  the  child  Consuelo,  a 
dream  face  of  four-year-old  babyhood.  The 
only  colour  about  the  portrait  of  pink  skin  and 
yellow  curls  is  a  bunch  of  four  large,  well-pro- 
portioned pink  roses  resting  on  the  lace.  Her 
dark  eyes  are  a  striking  contrast  to  the  face. 
There  is  a  portrait  of  Sardou,  also  a  portrait  of 
ex-Queen  Margherita  of  Italy,  presented  to  her 
by  her  Majesty  on  Marie's  Italian  tour,  the  year 


100  THE   TENTH    COMMANDMENT 

of  her  retirement.  There  are  miniatures  in  a 
small  glass  case  beneath  it.  One  of  them  is  of 
the  Princess  of  Wales  encased  in  pearls.  A  ruby 
bracelet  also  given  her  by  the  Princess  is  laid 
with  it.  A  miniature  of  Patti  and  one  of 
Bernhardt  are  among  them,  and  so  on,  a  case 
of  notables,  royal  and  artistic.  But  all  of  Madame 
Marie's  tokens  of  her  triumph  and  fame  cannot 
be  shown  to  effect  in  an  ordinary  apartment. 
Why,  too,  make  to-night  an  exhibition  of  curiosi- 
ties rather  than  a  night  of  meeting  and  old 
friendships  renewed  ?  On  the  large  wide  floors 
are  small  Daghestan  and  Persian  rugs,  movable  at 
a  moment's  notice.  Behind  the  Steinway  grand, 
on  a  high  marble  pedestal,  stands  a  marble 
figure  of  Peace,  an  Italian  work  of  art.  Directly 
opposite  to  it,  surrounded  by  musical  instruments 
and  shielded  by  a  silken  cord,  is  a  bronze  statue 
of  Cupid,  the  god  of  love.  Everywhere  are 
chairs  and  tete-a-tetes,  and  yet  the  rooms  are 
but  little  filled,  and  the  size  seems  to  increase  as 
one  looks  about  them. 

Consuelo  enters  and  stands  in  admiration  on 
the  threshold.  She  is  dressed  in  white  lace, 
skirts  that  barely  touch  the  knees  and  very  full. 
Her  neck  and  arms  are  bare,  save  for  the  curls 


STARLIGHT   ON   SHORE  IOI 

which  fall  everywhere  about  her  shoulders  with 
delightful  charm  and  persistence.  There  are 
some  violets  at  her  sash,  a  few  others  are  caught 
in  a  large  bow  on  one  shoulder. 

"The  rooms  are  pretty,  grandmere,"  she  says 
naively,  "  I  like  them." 

"They  are  not  so  pretty  when  you  are  out  of 
them,"  says  Marie,  and  the  child  blushes  with 
all  the  charm  of  her  childhood. 

"  Is  your  mother  dressed  and  ready,"  asks 
Marie,  "  or  still  writing  ?  " 

"  She  has  gone  out,"  said  the  child.  "  She  went 
out  before  I  came  down." 

"  Gone  out ! "  was  Madame's  exclamation. 
"What  could  she  have  been  thinking  of?  the 
guests  will  be  here  in  less  than  an  hour." 

"  She'll  be  home  before  that  time,"  says  Consuelo, 
measuring  herself  with  a  tall  palm  near  the  door- 
way, and  finally  succeeding  by  standing  on  tiptoe 
in  knocking  it  over. 

But  Madame  has  no  heart  to  rebuke  her,  and 
with  the  child's  assistance  succeeds  in  placing  it 
once  more  on  its  pedestal. 

"  When  you  grow  up,  Consuelo  dear,"  she  said, 
placing  her  hand  on  the  child's  wee  shoulder, 
"  promise  me,  that  no  matter  how  great  the  inspi- 


102  THE   TENTH    COMMANDMENT 

ration  or  temptation,  that  you  won't  write  operas  or 
musical  scores  of  any  kind.  Your  mother  may  be  a 
genius;  but  spare  me  from  any  more  in  the  family." 

"  I'll  promise,  grandmere ;  for  when  I  grow  up, 
I'm  going  to  marry  a  rich  prince  who'll  buy  me 
everything  I  can  possibly  wish  for." 

"  See  that  you  don't  forget  your  promise,  young 
woman,"  laughed  Marie,  rearranging  the  stems  of 
some  beauty  roses  that  had  not  been  fixed  to  her 
liking. 

The  child  came  nearer.  "  Grandmere,"  she  said 
softly,  "  is  that  nice  gentleman  who  walked  home 
with  us  yesterday  coming  to-night  ? " 

"  Mr.  Courtney,  you  mean  ?  I  hardly  think  so. 
He  said  he  would  come  if  he  could,  but  he  hardly 
thought  that  possible." 

"  I  liked  him,  didn't  you,  grandmere  ? "  but 
before  Madame  could  reply,  the  door  opened,  and 
the  child's  mother  entered. 

"  I  had  to  go  down  town  for  these,"  she  said, 
holding  up  some  music  sheets.  "  I  have  a  lot  of 
writing  to  do  in  the  morning,"  then  noticing  her 
mother's  anxious  look,  she  added :  "  Come,  Connie, 
dearest,  upstairs  and  help  me  fix  up  for  society. 
Oh,  mother,  I'm  a  trial ;  but  through  trials  we  learn 
the  full  value  of  happiness." 


STARLIGHT   ON    SHORE  103 

With  the  speaker  had  come  a  pleasant  influence. 
She  was  a  handsome  woman,  this  daughter  of 
Madame,  and  though  she  lacked  her  mother's  regal 
bearing,  she  was  very  distinguished  looking.  She 
was  somewhat  taller  than  Marie.  She  had  a  slight, 
willowy  figure,  which,  it  was  said,  never  showed 
to  better  advantage  than  when  she  conducted  an 
orchestra.  Her  face  was  oval,  and  lighted  up  with 
enthusiasm  when  she  talked.  She  wore  her  hair, 
which  was  slightly  gray,  short  about  her  face.  Her 
features  were  considered  by  sculptors  to  be  fault- 
less. She  never  affected  any  other  colour  than 
black.  An  Italian  artist  once  painted  her  portrait 
and  called  it  "Inspiration";  a  sculptor  chiselled 
her  in  marble  and  named  it  "Genius."  Although 
Marie  considered  her  career  an  idle  one,  it  had 
been  by  no  means  uneventful.  She  had  been 
the  first  woman  to  conduct  an  orchestra  in  the 
United  States,  and  that  with  a  programme  consisting 
entirely  of  her  own  compositions.  She  had  com- 
posed four  operas  which  had  had  a  moderate  suc- 
cess, and  were  still  being  played  in  the  provinces ; 
and  although  she  had  never  gained  the  position  to 
which  her  genius  entitled  her,  nevertheless  she  had 
succeeded  in  making  a  reputation  for  herself  which 
was  by  no  means  a  passing  one.  Emma  Marie 


104  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

followed  no  paths  or  rules  chosen  and  succeeded 
in  by  her  predecessors.  She  had  been  called 
erratic  and  a  failure  as  often  as  she  had  been  hailed 
as  a  genius,  but  little  cared  she. 

"  Only  cowards  run  at  the  smell  of  powder,"  she 
once  said.  "  I  sometimes  think  that  a  cannon  ball 
would  be  the  only  thing  that  could  remove  me  from 
the  field  of  action." 

It  might  be  well  told  here  of  a  concert  she 
was  to  give  in  a  certain  Southern  city  where 
another  musical  director  was  expected  the  same 
week. 

"  Though  we  were  not  friends,"  as  she  expressed 
it,  "  I  didn't  expect  any  trouble,  since  my  date  had 
been  arranged  upon  in  the  early  winter,  and  his 
somewhat  later,  so  I  was  told.  However,  when  he 
heard  of  my  expected  visit  in  the  city,  he  decided 
to  appear  on  the  same  night  as  myself,  and  con- 
vince the  public  of  the  superiority  of  his  work 
over  mine.  His  pictures  were  scattered  so  broad- 
cast over  the  town,  and  the  advertisements  appeared 
so  important  in  the  daily  papers,  including  some 
notices  derogatory  to  my  work,  that  the  night 
before  the  concert  an  enterprising  editor,  God  bless 
him,  who  had  been  silently  watching  it  all,  came 
out  with  a  fine  editorial  on  what  a  woman  could  do, 


STARLIGHT   ON    SHORE  105 

and  what  a  man  had  done ;  and  the  result  of  that 
two-column  editorial  was  a  packed  house  for  the 
woman  guest  of  the  city,  with  the  'Standing 
Room  '  sign  in  plain  evidence."  But  I  am  digress- 
ing. 


CHAPTER  XIV 
"'TIS   BUT  REMEMBRANCE" 

SOMEWHERE  there  is  a  clock  chiming  nine. 
As  the  last  sound  dies  away,  there  is  a  sound  of 
carriage  wheels,  then  the  sound  of  others,  for  the 
night  is  beginning. 

Madame  Marie,  unattended,  awaits  the  guests 
in  the  drawing-room.  The  first  arrival  is  M. 
Vachenhoff,  a  Russian  novelist.  He  appears  ill 
at  ease  when  he  discovers  himself  in  the  unhappy 
predicament  of  being  the  first  arrival;  but  Madame 
soon  assures  him  that  his  punctuality  is  appre- 
ciated, and  that  she  considers  herself  honoured  by 
his  presence  among  them.  The  next  arrivals  were 
ladies,  as  were  the  next  and  the  next.  The  little 
Mather  sisters  had  arrived  and  were  being  es- 
corted to  the  dressing-room  by  Consuelo,  who 
greeted  the  guests  of  the  evening  at  the  foot  of 
the  staircase.  Many  were  the  kisses  she  gra- 
ciously bestowed  upon  the  ladies,  and  many  a 
smile  did  she  offer  as  greeting  to  the  men. 

1 06 


"'TIS   BUT   REMEMBRANCE"  107 

"  She's  going  to  be  a  heart  breaker,  Madame," 
laughed  the  latest  comer,  a  Mr.  Newson  from 
Boston,  whose  success  in  life  had  been  as  a 
painter  of  children.  "I'll  never  woo  sleep  till 
I  put  my  first  sight  of  that  child  on  canvas."  The 
child  overheard  this  and  laughed  again  at  him 
with  her  bewitching  gray  eyes. 

But  thought  of  him  was  soon  forgotten  in  the 
coming  of  others,  and  Mr.  Newson  later  saw  her 
bestow  a  very  affectionate  kiss  and  hug  on  an 
older  man,  whom  he  discovered  later  was  the 
Signor  Lonspetti.  "  He's  a  great  friend  of  mine," 
the  child  shyly  volunteered  when  she  caught  him 
laughing  at  her.  "  That's  Mr.  Lonspetti  and  his 
wonder  violin." 

"  And  who  was  the  pretty  lady  with  him  ? " 
"  Mrs.  Merrall,  another  friend  of  mine." 
"  Then   these   people    are   all   known   to    your 
little    highness  ?      As   yet,  they  are   strangers  to 
me." 

"  Grandmere  says  to  meet  in  a  friend's  house 
is  an  introduction  in  itself,  and  needs  none 
other." 

Mr.  Newson's  quiet  tete-a-tete  with  the  child 
on  the  staircase  was  interrupted  by  the  coming 
of  others,  so  he  withdrew  to  the  parlours.  They 


108  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

were  already  rapidly  filling  up,  and  the  spirit  of 
life  and  merriment  was  like  a  tonic  in  the  air, 
and  yet  the  night  was  but  a  new-born  thing. 

Ghleska  had  arrived  and  was  soon  deep  in  a 
discussion  with  a  fellow-artist  whom  he  had 
"  picked  up  "  at  a  musicale  that  afternoon.  Lon- 
spetti,  near  the  door,  was  awaiting  Edythe,  who 
was  still  in  the  dressing-rooms.  She  came  down 
presently,  accompanied  by  Emma  Marie,  and  to- 
gether they  went  into  the  music  room.  "  Emma 
tells  me  that  she  leaves  for  Chicago  to-morrow," 
Edythe  said  to  the  Signer. 

"  My  flitting  to  and  fro  is  an  old  story,  isn't  it, 
Signor  ?  I'm  never  long  enough  in  a  place  to  see 
the  paper  for  the  day,  much  less  read  it.  While 
I  was  in  the  provinces  my  treasurer  absconded, 
my  advance  agent  turned  out  to  be  a  '  fizzle,' 
and  for  two  entire  weeks  I  filled  the  r61es  of 
composer,  directing  manager,  orchestra  leader, 
press  agent,  advance  agent,  treasurer,  and  a  dozen 
minor  parts  too  numerous  to  mention.  When  I 
wasn't  at  the  town  ahead  arranging  for  the  next 
day's  performance,  —  we  were  playing  one-night 
stands  then,  —  I  was  either  in  the  town  where 
we*  were  playing  keeping  things  going  there,  or 
in  the  town  we  had  just  left  settling  up  old  scores. 


"'TIS   BUT  REMEMBRANCE"  109 

It  was  lively  business.  I  shall  never  forget  one 
'particular  night.  I  had  been  all  day  in  a  town 
where  we  had  played  the  night  before,  had  come 
back  just  in  time  to  get  things  started  for  that 
evening's  performance,  broken  in  a  chorus  girl 
to  take  the  place  of  my  prima  donna  who  was 
ill,  looked  up  several  new  men  for  the  orchestra, 
and  when  the  affair  was  over,  and  the  accounts 
settled,  I  had  just  one  hour  and  six  minutes  to 
rest  before  the  company  left  for  the  next  stop- 
ping place,  a  distance  of  several  hundred  miles. 
Will  you  believe  it,  that  all  the  sleep  I  got  that 
night  was  on  a  chair  just  inside  the  door  of  my 
room  with  my  head  resting  on  a  newspaper  of 
the  provinces,  for  I  hadn't  time  to  reach  the  bed, 
and  even  in  my  few  moments'  sleep  that  night 
I  was  booking  dates  ahead  ? " 

The  Signor  laughed  merrily.  "  No  wonder 
you  hold  so  unique  a  position,"  he  said.  "  I 
always  appreciate  women's  work.  As  I  said  last 
evening  at  a  toast  given  at  a  Woman's  Club 
reception :  '  To  women,  God  bless  them.  With- 
out their  power,  love,  and  influence,  countries 
would  fall ;  for  only  through  them  can  we  men 
conquer  what  we  will.'  " 

There  were  several  came  up  to  greet  the  trio 


1 10  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

at  this,  and  to  welcome  Miss  Marie  back  from 
her  European  trip.  But  the  conversation  was 
interrupted  by  the  sound  of  music.  From  an 
outer  room  there  comes  the  sound  of  the  tuning 
of  the  strings  of  several  instruments,  the  sound 
of  a  cornet:  the  night  was  making  good  her 
promises  to  Marie  and  to  herself.  Outside, 
barred  from  the  gayety  within,  the  stars  are  all 
out,  and  the  big  round  moon  seems  to  be  there 
only  to  keep  a  watchful  vigil  over  them,  lest  some 
of  them  be  enticed  to  earth. 

To  the  guests  of  that  evening  the  night  was  one 
to  be  remembered.  It  was  one  of  those  nights 
that  it  is  good  to  dream  about.  Something  that 
is  not  blotted  out  with  the  years.  Marie  called  it 
only  a  home  gathering,  and  as  such  she  designated 
it  on  her  invitations.  People  met  who  had  not  met 
before  or  for  years,  and  many  long-lost  friendships 
were  renewed.  The  music  lent  new  hope  and  in- 
spiration to  those  who  had  defaulted  from  the 
ranks. 

Such  a  night  to  be  appreciated  must  be  lived. 
Perhaps  Lonspetti  had  in  mind  the  face  of  the 
woman  he  loved  when  he  held  his  audience  spell- 
bound and  mystified  that  night  by  his  rendering  of 
"'Tis  but  Remembrance."  The  old  violin  told  of 


"'TIS   BUT   REMEMBRANCE"  ill 

the  meeting  and  the  parting  of  the  lovers,  and 
Clare's  voice  in  the  distance  sympathized  and  sang 
with  it  in  perfect  harmony.  It  was  the  old,  too 
old  story  of  anger,  hopeless  remorse,  long  years  — 
and  then  but  remembrance.  It  seemed  often  in 
the  magnetism  of  that  old  instrument  as  if  an  un- 
seen power  were  guiding  it,  for  something  in  its 
tone  or  its  tremor  invariably  brought  the  worst 
sceptic  to  thinking  of  the  only  perfect  love  —  and 
the  Cross.  It  was  no  small  wonder  that  among 
the  toasts  given  that  night  at  the  supper  table 
one  was  proposed  most  appropriately  to  "  the  old 
Stradivarius,  dreamer  and  philosopher,  and  to  the 
master  of  players,  Signor  Lonspetti." 

It  is  not  always  the  influence  of  a  church  that 
causes  reflection,  or  the  weight  of  a  priest's  teach- 
ing that  makes  us  wiser.  Sometimes,  ay,  often, 
the  best  lessons  the  heart  can  learn  and  understand 
are  those  that  come  to  us  in  the  busy  everyday 
life  midst  pleasures  and  sorrows  common  to  us  all. 

As  Marie  has  told  us,  and  perhaps  wisely,  "  The 
church  has  an  immense  congregation;  but  the 
weight  lies  in  whether  they  are  believers  or  fol- 
lowers." 

Edythe  had  never  been  so  moved  as  to-night,  so 
she  confessed  to  herself  as  she  stood  in  a  large  bay 


112  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

window  in  the  front  room  where  she  could  listen 
and  reflect  without  interruption.  That  familiar 
passage  in  the  prayer-book  came  to  her  over  and 
over  again,  —  "We  have  erred  and  strayed  from 
thy  ways  like  lost  sheep." 

There  were  a  few  passers-by  even  at  that  hour 
of  midnight,  when  the  new  day,  fresh  with  its 
hopes  and  promises,  was  taking  possession  of  the 
universe.  Several  men,  heart  heavy  and  tired, 
Edythe  thought  them,  stopped  for  a  moment  at 
the  house  to  listen  to  the  music  within,  and  then 
being  refreshed,  passed  on  and  were  lost  to  sight 
again;  but  among  them  there  was  only  one  she 
recognized,  and  he  was  in  the  dress  of  a  clergyman. 


CHAPTER   XV 
A  PLEA  FOR  THE   FUTURE 

A  DAY  or  two  after  the  reception  Mr.  Courtney 
presented  himself  at  Madame's  apartments.  "  I 
came  in  to  thank  you  for  your  goodness  in  remem- 
bering me  with  an  invitation,"  he  said  cordially, 
as  they  met  and  shook  hands.  "  I  wanted  to  come, 
but  at  the  last  moment  I  was  called  to  a  dying 
man's  bedside." 

"  And  I  am  sure  carried  peace  with  you.  Sev- 
eral inquired  for  you  that  night,  among  them  our 
friend,  Signer  Lonspetti." 

Rodgers  hoped  she  was  going  to  say  some  one 
else,  and  was  disappointed.  He  took  a  seat  near 
her  in  the  large  bay  window,  and  there  they  talked 
of  the  reception  and  its  people.  "  I  passed  the 
house  about  midnight,"  Mr.  Courtney  ventured, 
"on  my  way  home,  and  the  music  I  heard  still 
lingers  in  my  memory." 

"  It  was  undoubtedly  the  Signer,"  said  Madame. 
"  I  sometimes  wonder  if  his  violin  is  but  a  mere  in- 
ns 


114  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

strument  as  he  claims  it.  There  is  a  supernatural 
influence  about  it  that  aside  from  its  rare  tone  is 
magnetic.  It  never  fails  to  throw  a  hypnotic  in- 
fluence over  its  listeners;  it  has  a  strange,  sweet 
way  of  telling  a  story ;  it  appeals  to  the  heart 
when  the  human  voice  would  fail  in  its  mission." 

"  He  does  not  play  much  in  public,"  said  Mr. 
Courtney. 

"  No,  but  little.  His  stay  in  London  is  but  a 
fleeting  one.  He  is  only  going  over  on  Clare's 
account.  His  playing  will  add  much  to  her  being 
a  success  there,  and  he  realizes  it." 

The  door  opened,  and  Edythe  and  Consuelo 
stood  before  them.  "  Consuelo  has  brought  me 
home  to  tea,"  Edythe  said,  as  she  came  forward 
and  greeted  Madame  and  Mr.  Courtney.  "  Connie 
has  been  inviting  quite  a  party  while  out  this 
afternoon." 

"  Yes,  grandmere,  and  all  such  dear  friends,  — 
Signor  Lonspetti,  Mr.  Ghleska,  Edythe's  two  sis- 
ters, and  Mr.  Newson." 

Madame  smiled  approvingly.  "  A  wise  selec- 
tion," she  said.  "Then,  Mr.  Courtney,  you  will 
surely  join  our  gathering  at  supper  ?  " 

"  I  should  like  to  if  I  had  not  made  an  engage- 
ment to  be  at  the  Girls'  Friendly  Society  this 


A  PLEA   FOR   THE   FUTURE  115 

evening,"  he  said  slowly.  "  If  it  were  not  for  that, 
nothing  would  give  me  so  much  pleasure." 

"  But  does  not  the  Girls'  Friendly  meet  every 
week  ? "  suggested  Consuelo,  anxious  for  him  to 
remain.  "  Can't  you  be  sure  and  go  next  time  ? 
I'm  sure  they'd  forgive  you  just  this  once." 

"  If  it  were  only  once  to  overlook  and  forgive 
me,"  said  the  young  clergyman,  taking  the  little 
girl's  hands  tight  in  his,  "  I'd  love  to  stay  because 
you've  asked  me  to." 

"  And  you  will,  won't  you  ? "  said  the  child, 
eagerly,  smiling  on  him  with  all  the  charms  of 
her  childhood  and  beauty.  "You  can  tell  them 
at  the  next  meeting  that  two  of  your  dear  friends 
were  going  abroad  the  next  day,  and  that  was 
your  last  chance  to  see  them  before  they  sailed." 

"And  you  think  they'd  forgive  me?" 

"  They'd  be  glad  you  stayed,"  promptly  replied 
Consuelo.  And  so  he  consented. 

Edythe  and  Marie  were  standing  in  another 
part  of  the  room,  looking  out  of  a  window. 
Mr.  Courtney  turned  from  the  child  to  look  at 
them.  Edythe  was  standing  with  her  back  against 
the  curtains,  through  which  the  afternoon  sun  stole 
as  if  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  her.  Mr.  Courtney 
thought  as  she  stood  there  that  she  must  be  the 


Il6  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

type  of  a  woman  men  live  for;  ay,  die  for. 
She  was  a  woman  to  be  loved  and  to  be  pro- 
tected. There  was  an  innocence  in  the  repose 
of  her  face  that  was  appealing.  In  her  eyes 
a  softness  lingered  which  men  ever  admire.  Per- 
haps it  was  because  she  had  suffered  that  he 
cared  for  her,  and  in  his  love  for  her  he  over- 
looked and  forgot  the  suffering  she  had  brought 
to  others.  Tis  said  that  "love  is  blind,"  but 
Madame  Marie  is  so  fond  of  quoting  her  own  con- 
tradiction, that  love  is  not  blind,  but  the  foolish 
who  follow  him.  As  she  has  said :  "  People  in 
love  are  very  apt  not  to  notice  how  the  wind 
blows.  It  is  as  injurious  to  the  ear  and  the  eye- 
sight as  old  age  is,  and  perhaps  as  much  to  be 
dreaded." 

Wise  woman  philosopher !  It  is  not  known  or 
chronicled  whether  she  believed  all  the  things 
she  professed  to  believe,  or  whether  she  gave 
serious  thought  to  any  one  topic.  Her  conversa- 
tion was  versatile,  and  as  witty  as  wise.  It  was 
said  of  her  that  a  remark  carelessly  made  by  her 
at  a  dinner  in  Washington  cost  a  winning  candi- 
date for  the  presidency  the  election;  but  it  was 
only  one  of  many  stories  circulated  by  the 
opposing  party. 


A  PLEA   FOR  THE   FUTURE  117 

To  Madame  Marie  is  credited  the  saying  that 
"  election  time  is  when  the  fairy  tales  are  revised 
for  the  adults,  and  the  party  who  tells  them  the 
most  happily  gets  in.  It  is  a  case  of  hypnotizing 
the  controlling  votes,  those  of  the  workingman." 
She  was  particularly  happy  in  her  remarks  that 
night,  and  Mr.  Courtney  wished  more  than  once 
at  the  tea-table  that  he  could  find  an  opportunity 
to  put  some  of  them  down.  One  passing  remark 
of  hers  offered  in  behalf  of  the  felines'  midnight 
club,  that  the  cats  were  only  repeating  at  night 
the  scandal  they'd  heard  in  the  daytime,  he 
jotted  down  on  a  timely  discovered  visiting  card, 
and  trusted  to  his  memory  to  treasure  the  rest. 

It  was  a  bright  company  that  Consuelo  had 
invited  there  that  night.  She  was  a  small  girl, 
but  a  very  wise  one.  Marie  had  practically 
brought  her  up,  and  the  child  was  like  a  miniature 
of  the  famous  actress.  She  was  clever,  far-seeing, 
and  showed  all  the  traces  of  a  careful  training. 
"  Emma  isn't  half  the  business  woman  Connie 
is,"  Madame  laughed,  as  her  eyes  rested  on  the 
child  beside  her.  "  I  often  call  her  the  hope  of 
my  old  age." 

And  with  this  remark  the  supper  came  to  an 
end,  and  from  the  merry  stories  told  at  the  supper 


Il8  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

table  the  conversation  drifted  to  things  material. 
Consuelo  was  kissed  and  she  went  to  bed,  and 
Mr.  Newson,  having  made  a  theatre  engagement, 
left  shortly  after  supper.  "  Quite  a  clever  fellow," 
Dorothy  said  when  he  had  gone.  "  His  pictures 
of  children  are  something  wonderful.  Have  you 
seen  his  collection  ?  "  —  this  addressed  to  Mr. 
Courtney. 

He  admitted  that  he  had  not,  in  fact  was  not 
aware  that  the  collection  was  being  exhibited 
in  New  York.  "  So  many  picture  exhibits  are 
going  on  all  the  time,"  he  added,  "  that  unless 
one  is  particularly  interested  in  the  artist,  they 
are  overlooked." 

"By  some — yes,"  she  added.  "I  admire  him 
not  only  for  his  work,  but  his  perseverance.  He 
believes  as  I  do  that  the  greatest  ambition  in 
life  is  attainable." 

"  And  I  am  beginning  to  doubt  it,"  said 
Lonspetti.  "  My  conviction,  like  a  faith,  has 
always  been  that  all  things  were  possible.  I 
believe  now  that  fate  only  favours  a  few,  a  very 
few." 

"  That  is  only  a  passing  fancy,"  said  Edythe. 
"  I  should  sink  if  my  faith  didn't  cling  to  that 
hope.  It  has  been  such  a  comfort  to  me  since 


A  PLEA  FOR  THE   FUTURE  119 

the  night  you  told  me  of  it ;  perhaps  you  remem- 
ber the  circumstance  ? " 

"  But  a  raft  cannot  save  all  who  cling  to  it. 
One  cannot  live  on  hope  forever.  With  you 
life  is  young,  is  promising;  with  me  it  is  differ- 
ent." 

"You  talk  as  if  you  were  the  father  of  Methu- 
selah," said  Madame,  hoping  to  rouse  him. 

"  I  shall  be  forty-one  to-morrow,"  he  said,  "  an 
age  when  a  man  should  have  accomplished  some- 
thing if  he  ever  expects  to  do  so.  It  finds  me 
still  a  dreamer.  I  often  wonder  if  in  a  future 
existence  we  shall  ever  know  some  of  the  whys 
and  wherefores  of  this  life.  Mr.  Courtney,  as 
a  representative  of  the  church,  you  may  be  able 
to  enlighten  me." 

"  I  think  we  shall,"  the  young  clergyman  said 
earnestly,  for  all  eyes  were  upon  him  for  the 
answer.  "  I  believe  there  all  things  will  be  made 
clear." 

"It  is  good  to  believe  in  such  a  life,"  said 
Ghleska,  who  was  more  of  a  thinker  than  a  talker. 
"  Nothing  interests  me  so  much  as  this  question  of 
the  future.  I  think  it  is  one  that  interests  sceptics 
and  believers  alike." 

"Yes,"  said  Marie,  "for  we  live  on  the  edge  of 


120  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

a  future,  in  the  dawn  of  an  awakening  somewhere. 
I  am  not  a  deeply  religious  woman,  neither  am  I 
an  agnostic.  When  I  die  I  expect  to  go  on  living 
somewhere,  and  I  hope  to  see  all  my  friends  again. 
Unless  we  lose  our  life-wrought  characteristics  we 
shall  feel  entirely  at  home  together." 

"  You  take  the  words  of  the  Bible  as  literal,  do 
you  not,"  queried  Ghleska,  "that  we  shall  know 
each  other  in  the  hereafter  ?  Perhaps  I  shouldn't 
be  the  sceptic  I  am  if  I  could  be  assured  in  any 
way  of  a  future.  Those  we  love  die,  and  while 
the  human  heart  hopes  for  a  reunion,  or  for  some 
recognition  to  prove  that  death  has  not  ended  all, 
no  sign  or  message  comes  back  to  us,  and  hope 
grows  falsified  with  the  years." 

"But  that  does  not  prove  that  the  dead  do  not 
return,"  interrupted  Mr.  Courtney.  "The  instincts 
and  the  physical  conditions  of  the  mortal  man  may 
not  be  developed  enough  or  able  to  recognize  a 
dead  presence.  We  cannot  expect  a  dead  brother 
to  appear  before  us  as  one  living.  The  mortal  has 
put  on  immortality  ;  and  though  I  am  confident  that 
the  individuality  of  the  man  is  not  changed,  or  his 
love  or  memory  affected,  yet  I  believe  that  the 
failure  to  recognize  each  other  is  on  our  part,  not 
theirs.  We  are  told  in  the  New  Testament  not  to 


A  PLEA   FOR  THE   FUTURE  121 

mourn  for  the  departed  as  those  who  are  without 
hope,  for  it  assures  us  that  we  shall  be  reunited 
with  the  loved  and  lost.  David  weeping  over  his 
dead  son  said,  '  I  shall  go  to  him,  but'  he  shall 
not  return  to  me.'  That  this  life  must  come  to 
an  end  we  know,  for  there  is  no  life  without  the 
menace  of  death  upon  it,  as  there  is  no  day  with- 
out a  night ;  and  so  we  look  to  the  soul  which  is  in 
all  of  us,  and  is  immortal,  for  the  reunion  across 
the  threshold  when  all  souls  will  be  at  peace,  and 
there  will  be  but  one  faith,  one  fold,  and  one  shep- 
herd. Unfortunately,  at  present,"  continued  Mr. 
Courtney,  "the  atmosphere  of  the  day  is  chilled 
by  a  passing  wave  of  unbelief;  but  this  strong 
protest  against  immortality  is  bringing  religion 
into  bolder  relief  and  proving  clearly  that  not  only 
in  time  of  peace  and  in  war,  but  along  all  lines  of 
evolution,  there  is  an  unseen  power  ever  working 
and  controlling  the  universe,  a  God  who  is  allevi- 
ating the  burdens  of  mankind." 

"  I  do  not  quite  agree  with  you,  Mr.  Courtney, 
much  as  I  should  like  to  do  so,"  said  Lonspetti, 
"that  this  wave  of  unbelief  is  by  any  means  a 
passing  one.  It  appears  to  be  gaining  a  strong 
hold  on  humanity  that  it  will  be  hard  for  future 
generations  to  overcome  or  surmount.  The  future 


122  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

of  Christianity  is  clouded  and  can  only  be  light- 
ened when  some  of  the  barriers  are  removed, — 
servitude,  oppression,  wars,  and  fighting.  I  believe 
that  the  time  is  coming  when  arbitration  will  take 
the  place  of  the  sword  in  settlement  of  disagree- 
ments, for  only  in  an  upward  scientific  trend  will 
man  look  to  religion  as  the  staff  of  all  progress. 
Life  makes  us  what  we  are,  doubter  or  believer. 
Mine  has  made  me  somewhat  sceptical,"  he  said 
sadly.  "  Love,  strong  and  deathless,  is  the  great- 
est incentive  this  life  holds,  and  yet  many  of  us 
like  myself  go  through  life  searching  for  our 
affinity  and  pass  out  with  the  dream  unrealized. 
If  I  should  die  to-night,  I  have  hopes  that  I  shall 
go  on  living  somewhere,  and  I  believe  that  we  are 
conscious  through  the  change.  I  do  not  fear 
death,  for  in  reality  it  is  but  passing  to  a  new 
country  and  to  one's  own.  It  would  not  be  me  if 
I  was  unhappy  among  my  friends." 

"  For  one's  friends  mean  home,"  sighed  Marie. 
"  There  is  no  man,  to  my  thinking,  even  sceptic, 
so  firmly  engrossed  in  his  indifference  to  religion, 
who  does  not  share  the  human  longing  to  plunge 
into  the  mysterious  future  and  bring  back  some 
true  tidings  of  the  long  unbroken  silence.  Every 
man  at  some  time  in  his  life  questions  immortality, 


A  PLEA  FOR  THE  FUTURE  123 

if  only  in  his  heart.  It  is  not  unreasonable  that 
he  should,  for  the  opinions  of  the  universe  on  that 
ever  important  subject  are  as  diverse  as  the  habits 
and  natural  differences  of  the  men  who  utter  them. 
The  greatest  thinker  and  philosopher  of  the  world 
would  never  make  me  believe  that  death  ends  all, 
and  that  we  pass  out  on  a  starless  night,  and  then 
into  oblivion  forever." 

Through  it  all  Edythe  was  silent.  Clare  believed 
too  fully  in  life's  possibilities  and  an  assured  heaven 
at  the  end  even  to  give  a  thought  of  the  impossible 
the  shadow  of  a  doubt.  She  never  cared  to  hear  a 
discussion  on  the  future,  but  as  Madame  Marie  once 
told  her,  "To  listen  is  a  common  courtesy,  to 
believe  is  another  thing." 

Ghleska  broke  the  momentary  silence  that  fol- 
lowed, and  then  he  addressed  Lonspetti. 

"  Your  heart  must  indeed  be  young  to  still  believe 
that  there  is  an  affinity  for  us  all,"  he  said  rather 
sadly.  "  I  used  to  believe  it  when  I  was  in  the  early 
twenties ;  but  it  was  laughed  out  of  me  long  ago. 
Since  then  I've  given  more  thought  to  my  work." 

"  It  must  be  work  without  a  purpose  then,"  said 
the  Signor,  rising  to  depart,  for  the  night  was 
growing  late.  "  Perhaps  some  day  you  will 
understand  me  better." 


CHAPTER   XVI 

ACROSS   THE   OCEAN   FERRY 

AND  the  next  day  the  Signor  and  his  wonderful 
Stradivarius  sailed  away.  He  was  one  of  the  last 
passengers  to  board  the  steamer,  and  when  he  did 
so,  his  eyes  fell  upon  the  host  of  friends  gathered 
to  say  good-by.  His  expression  of  loneliness 
and  unhappiness  changed  to  one  of  delight. 
Edythe  was  among  them,  Clare,  who  was  to  sail 
the  following  Saturday,  Mr.  Courtney,  and  fifteen 
or  twenty  others.  He  greeted  them  each  impul- 
sively and  heartily.  "This  is  so  unexpected,  so 
unlocked  for,"  he  said — "and  the  flowers."  There 
were  tears  in  the  Signer's  eyes  when  he  saw  them. 
He  had  a  sensitive  nature,  and  was  as  easily 
affected  by  such  things  as  a  woman.  Madame 
Marie  was  unable  to  come,  at  the  last  moment,  so 
Consuelo  came  with  Edythe,  and  cried  so  hard 
at  parting  with  the  Signor  that  every  one  in  the 
party  became  visibly  affected.  Two  big  tears 
were  in  Edythe's  eyes  when  she  said  good-by, 

124 


ACROSS  THE  OCEAN  FERRY      125 

and  it  was  evident,  though  the  trip  was  to  be  a 
very  short  one,  that  Lonspetti  was  loath  to  go. 
"Take  good  care  of  yourself,  Edythe,"  he  said 
kindly  (it  was  the  first  time  he  had  called  her 
Edythe  since  her  marriage),  "and  keep  up  a 
brave  heart.  Don't  let  the  shadows  of  yester- 
day's mistakes  darken  to-day  or  to-morrow.  There 
is  much  work  for  you  to  accomplish,  and  I  am 
coming  back  to  help  you  do  it." 

He  shook  hands  with  Mr.  Courtney  next,  and 
then  followed  a  general  handshaking.  The  last 
gong  had  sounded,  and  all  but  their  party  had 
forsaken  the  vessel. 

Dr.  Mcllvaine,  who  had  come  down  to  wish 
some  of  his  parishioners  "god-speed,"  looked  as  if 
his  thoughts  were  more  attracted  to  the  little  group 
about  the  Signer,  who  were  but  a  few  feet  distant, 
than  to  the  several  of  his  own  flock,  and  when  he 
left  the  steamer  he  was  still  looking  over  the  pas- 
senger list  and  wondering  who  that  gentleman 
could  be.  He  was  still  debating  between  two  pos- 
sible names  when  the  St.  Louis  departed  for  South- 
ampton, leaving  him  in  a  brown  study  on  the  dock. 
In  the  crowd  about  the  Signor,  to  which  his  atten- 
tion had  been  attracted  by  Mr.  Courtney,  he  had 
not  noticed  Mrs.  Merrall,  and  would  never  have 


126  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

known  of  her  presence  there  had  he  not  seen  Mr. 
Courtney  putting  her  into  a  carriage  on  his  way 
from  the  pier. 

******** 

Clare  sailed  on  the  following  Saturday  and 
looked  as  radiantly  happy  as  the  morning.  Her 
sisters  were  there  to  see  her  off,  Madame  Marie, 
little  Consuelo,  Ghleska,  and  Mr.  Newson.  She 
was  all  smiles  and  enthusiasm  at  going,  and 
Edythe  thought  as  she  looked  at  her  that  she 
was  really  growing  beautiful. 

"  I  wish  you  were  all  going  with  me,"  she  said, 
with  a  certain  archness  that  was  as  charming  as  it 
was  unaffected.  "  It  seems  odd  to  have  to  go  in 
search  of  fame  and  fortune  in  a  strange  land. 
How  true  it  is  that  '  a  man  is  not  without  honour 
save  in  his  own  country.'  " 

And  the  face  that  looked  back  to  them,  long 
after  the  Teutonic  had  put  to  sea,  was  still  smiling 
and  happy. 

"  How  good,  how  good  it  is  to  feel  happy ! ' '  Edythe 
was  thinking,  as  the  little  face  faded  from  sight  in 
the  distance,  and  the  big  ocean  liner  looked  less 
formidable  than  she  had  a  moment  ago  at  the  dock. 

The  studio  seemed  deserted  that  afternoon 
when  she  returned  home.  She  wished  that  she 


ACROSS  THE  OCEAN  FERRY      127 

had  brought  the  child  Consuelo  with  her.  She 
was  a  sympathetic  creature,  and  Edythe  was  con- 
scious of  a  very  tender  affection  for  a  certain  little 
pair  of  arms  that  had  a  most  sympathetic  touch 
about  them,  and  a  child  face  that  fitted  close  to 
one's  own  as  lovingly  as  the  rose  leaf  does  to  the 
heart  of  the  rose. 

"It's  because  she  reminds  me  of  my  own  girl," 
Edythe  thought  sadly,  as  the  vision  of  a  baby  face 
rose  for  the  moment  before  her,  and  then  faded 
again  into  the  shadows  through  which  it  had 
smiled.  "  The  world  would  have  looked  so  differ- 
ent if  she  had  lived  to  love  me;  life  has  looked 
hopeless  since  I  last  held  her." 

How  true  it  is  that  mankind  grieves  for  the 
dead  and  forgets  the  living  :  the  living  that  are  in 
need  of  our  love  and  support,  when  tears  for  the 
dead  avail  nothing.  It  seemed  to  Edythe  as  she 
sat  alone  that  afternoon  as  if  her  brain  were  border- 
ing on  a  collapse,  like  a  broken  branch  of  an  oak 
tree  that  was  swaying  in  the  breeze. 

As  the  day  deepened,  Edythe  watched  the 
shadows  one  by  one,  like  sentinels,  take  up  their 
accustomed  places  in  the  corners,  and  she  fell  to 
wondering  if  the  legend  were  true,  —  that  shadows 
are  restless  souls  from  the  death  land. 


128  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

As  in  a  dream  her  surroundings  became  less  and 
less  perceptible,  and  before  her  stretched  a  moun- 
tainous range,  over  which  she  seemed  to  be  crossing. 
It  appeared  to  be  midday,  and  the  air  was  intoxi- 
cating in  its  freshness  and  lightness.  Some  wild 
birds  flapped  their  wings  near  her  as  they  soared 
into  the  air  and  were  lost  to  sight  behind  a  pink  cloud 
that  was  passing  southward.  An  eagle  watched 
her  with  an  imperious  eye  from  a  higher  summit, 
where  he  reigned,  king  of  the  air.  But  he  offered 
no  interference,  and  she  passed  on  and  forgot  him. 

Once,  on  the  edge  of  a  high  precipice,  she  was 
wont  to  look  down  upon  the  world,  and  though  it 
seemed  to  her  thousands  of  feet  below  the  lowest 
jet  in  the  mountain,  yet  she  could  see  the  tide 
of  humanity  hurrying  on  to  the  end,  and  as  she 
watched  that  moving  panorama  she  could  distin- 
guish among  them  that  great  and  innumerable 
army  of  the  oppressed  and  the  sorrowful,  the 
fettered  toilers  of  circumstance  and  of  wrong. 
And  as  she  stood  on  the  summit  reviewing  the 
past  land,  night  came  over  the  country,  and  she 
turned  her  eyes  upwards  to  the  light  again  —  the 
ever  burning  searchlight  from  the  white  throne 
of  God,  and  there  came  to  her  there  on  the  moun- 
tain two  children,  a  boy  and  a  girl. 


CHAPTER   XVII 
A  SUMMER   EVENING 

EDYTHE  awoke  to  find  the  rooms  well  lighted 
and  Dorothy  singing  at  her  work. 

"It's  going  to  be  a  bit  lonesome  without  little 
Clare,"  she  said,  breaking  the  silence;  "but  I'm 
glad  she  went  away  in  such  fine  spirits.  The  Sig- 
nor's  departure  was  quite  depressing." 

"  The  Signor  doesn't  take  life  so  lightly,"  said 
Edythe.  "  He  has  seen  more  of  it  thai}  Clare." 

"  And  takes  it  too  seriously,"  interrupted 
Dorothy.  "  I  don't  like  a  sensitive  nature  in  a 
man ;  it's  purely  a  woman's  instinct,  and  a  weak 
one  at  that.  This  world  is  too  much  of  a  rough- 
and-tumble  affair  for  one  to  cater  to  one's  feel- 
ings." 

"  Perhaps  the  Signor  would  be  richer  if  it  were 
not  for  his  sensitive  nature,"  said  Edythe,  "  but  to 
my  mind  he  wouldn't  be  half  so  lovable.  I  didn't 
realize  how  much  I  appreciated  him  until  I  saw 
him  sail  away  last  Wednesday.  Clare's  going  was 
different,  for  she  was  happy." 

139 


130  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

"  Well,  they'll  both  have  to  be  '  bygones '  for 
the  present,"  laughed  Dorothy,  with  a  shrug  of 
her  pretty  shoulders.  "  Come,  cheer  up,  and  have 
some  supper.  Marie  and  Connie  are  coming 
over  later,  and  you  don't  want  to  greet  them  in 
that  attitude  of  despair  when  there's  nothing  to 
worry  over.  If  the  Signer  is  lost  at  sea,  you  can 
sit  that  way  for  a  week,  and  I  won't  raise  an 
objection,  but  until  then,  I  do." 

Edythe  sighed  as  if  wearied,  and  tried  to  rouse 
herself.  She  ate  her  supper  and  said  but  little. 
She  was  conscious  of  a  one-sided  conversation 
that  didn't  lag  for  want  of  subject-matter,  but 
she  was  so  accustomed  to  the  voice  that  it  failed  to 
rouse  her.  It  was  like  listening  to  a  phonograph 
when  one  is  familiar  with  its  accomplishments. 

Marie  came  in  at  eight,  accompanied  by  the  ever 
smiling  Consuelo,  and  the  evening  woke  up. 

"I've  been  taking  an  automobile  ride  this 
afternoon,"  said  Consuelo,  kissing  Edythe  as  she 
spoke.  "I  tell  grandmere  that  I'd  rather  have 
one  now  than  a  bicycle." 

"  You  think  so  ? "  said  Edythe. 

"Decidedly  so,  and  Mr.  Newson  agrees  with  me." 

"  So  Mr.  Newson  is  the  gentleman  who  took 
you  out?" 


A   SUMMER   EVENING  131 

"Yes,"  sighed  the  child;  "his  conversation 
wearies  me  sometimes,  but  I  couldn't  refuse  go- 
ing out  in  an  automobile,  even  if  I  did  have  to 
listen  to  him." 

"She  is  becoming  quite  a  diplomat,  Marie," 
said  Dorothy.  Madame  laughed.  "  I  fear  she  is 
not  learned  enough  to  impersonate  that  ever  gen- 
erous and  kind  woman  whose  courtesies  are  so 
often  misconstrued  because  of  the  likeness  to  her 
stepsister,  Deceit.  I  consider  a  diplomat  akin  to 
a  statesman ;  but  the  word  is  misapplied  as  often 
as  the  term  '  genius.'  " 

"  Have  you  met  many  diplomats,  Madame," 
asked  Edythe,  "and  do  you  think  that  to  be  one, 
one  must  invariably  equivocate  ?  " 

"  By  no  means,  though  to  my  mind  the  truth- 
speaking  element  is  rapidly  belonging  to  a  dead 
generation.  One  of  the  wittiest  women  I  met 
abroad  is  clever  solely  for  her  diplomacy  and 
untruthfulness.  I  verily  believe  she  could  bring 
about  a  reconciliation  with  heaven  and  his  fallen 
majesty  if  she  were  given  an  opportunity  to  do  it. 
She  can  make  the  ugliest  woman  feel  handsome, 
and  the  poorest  man  acquire  momentary  wealth 
when  she  sets  out  to  do  it.  If  all  the  honour  and 
praise  she  bestows  upon  her  friends  were  true, 


132  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

heaven  would  have  to  be  renovated  for  their 
presence." 

"  I  should  like  to  meet  her,"  exclaimed  Edythe, 
with  some  feeling  of  enthusiasm ;  "  for  even  with 
my  knowledge  of  her  untruthfulness,  I  know  I 
should  admire  her." 

"She  is  not  the  first  deserter  from  the  ranks 
of  truth,  nor  is  she  the  last,  to  my  thinking," 
said  Madame.  "  She  is  like  many  of  us,  more 
sinned  against  than  sinning.  But  if  a  lie  is 
going  to  debar  us  from  heaven,  I  fear  that 
Washington  will  be  the  only  one  there." 

"And  even  the  cherry-tree  story  is  being 
looked  into,"  said  Dorothy. 

"  Undoubtedly,"  said  Madame.  "  Now  that  the 
Bible  is  being  torn  into  remnants  in  the  sanctu- 
ary, and  parts  discredited  by  a  later  and  less 
wise  generation,  I  stand  ready  to  believe  almost 
anything;  for  we  seem  uncertain  at  present  as 
to  how  we  first  came  into  being,  and  whither 
we  are  going,  though  I  confess  the  former  ques- 
tion troubles  me  but  little." 

"  You're  not  a  Darwinian  disciple,  then  ? "  said 
Dorothy.  "  I  confess  I  am." 

"A  good  many  follow  his  teachings,  I  am 
inclined  to  think,"  said  Madame.  "  I  have  never 


A   SUMMER   EVENING  133 

probed  the  subject  deep  enough  to  answer  in- 
telligently. I  think,  however,  the  Darwinian  doc- 
trine more  reasonable  than  the  idea  that  we 
came  up  from  fishes,  which,  I  believe,  is  the 
Agassiz  theory ;  but  that  may  be  due  to  the 
fact  that  I  have  met  so  many  people  resembling 
in  face  and  intelligence  that  former  disputed 
ancestor  of  ours.  I  have  even  been  led  to  think 
sometimes  that  the  race  of  monkeys  was  degen- 
erating." 

"It  is  surprising  how  diverse  are  the  people 
of  our  own  land  and  tongue,"  said  Edythe.  "  I 
never  weary  of  studying  humanity;  to  me,  it  is 
ever  new  and  interesting." 

"But  all  so-called  Americans  are  not  of  one 
tongue,  more's  the  pity,"  said  Madame.  "  Amer- 
ica is  rightly  named  a  free  country,  for  it  is  the 
refuge  for  the  outcasts  of  the  world,  and  espe- 
cially rich  if  their  inclinations  are  politics.  I 
suppose  you  have  all  heard  of  the  judge  in  one 
of  the  foreign  countries  who  was  anxious  to  rid 
the  place  of  a  troublesome  prisoner.  In  sen- 
tencing the  man  for  an  old  offence,  he  said, 
'  Ten  years,  or  a  free  passage  to  America.'  It 
was  undoubtedly  the  chance  of  the  man's  life, 
even  if  it  did  inconvenience  our  country  a  little 


134  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

by  his  coming.  I'm  not  a  woman  suffragist,  but 
I  do  not  believe  in  foreigners  —  I  am  citing  only 
the  uneducated  classes  —  voting  over  the  heads 
of  the  American  woman.  I  believe  that  every 
head  of  a  house,  whether  a  man  or  woman,  and 
every  property  owner  should  control  a  vote." 

"  If  all  heads  of  houses  controlled  votes," 
laughed  Edythe,  "  I  think  there  would  be  a  de- 
cided feminine  atmosphere  at  the  polls.  It  would 
certainly  be  a  hard  question  in  some  houses  as 
to  who  held  the  vote." 

"  Not  if  the  property  owner's  rights  were  recog- 
nized," said  Madame. 

"It  would  always  be  the  feature  of  an  election," 
added  Dorothy,  and  she  laughed  so  long  and 
heartily  that  Consuelo,  who  was  asleep  on  the 
divan,  turned  her  face  toward  them,  and  smiled 
in  her  dream. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
A  RECOGNITION 

PERHAPS  it  was  because  of  a  lost  hope  that 
the  violin  made  its  master  the  man  of  the  hour 
in  London  when  he  played  before  one  of  the 
largest  audiences  Covent  Garden  had  ever  held, 
and  won  it  over  by  the  mere  charm  of  his  old 
Stradivarius. 

The  Signor  and  Clare  were  not  the  principal 
attractions  that  evening,  but  a  famous  Australian 
prima  donna  whom  London  had  turned  out  to 
honour.  The  house  was  in  excellent  humour,  and 
the  welcome  extended  to  the  Australian  singer 
was  as  hearty  as  it  was  sincere.  She  had  sung 
twice;  the  applause  had  died  away,  and  above 
the  murmur  of  voices  could  be  heard  the  music 
of  the  orchestra.  Clare  was  thankful  that  there 
was  something  between  her  and  the  great  prima 
donna;  for  it  seemed  to  her,  as  she  stood  in  the 
wings  that  night,  that  the  echoes  of  the  voice 
would  never  die  away  from  the  walls  of  Covent 
Garden. 

»35 


136  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

But  the  intermission  came  to  an  end,  and 
Lonspetti's  words  to  Clare  as  they  passed  out 
together  brought  courage  to  an  almost  sickened 
heart.  Whether  the  man  looked  master  of  him- 
self, or  the  young  singer  was  attractive,  we  do 
not  know.  We  are  only  conscious  of  a  warm 
welcome  to  both.  If  Lonspetti  expected  Clare 
to  look  frightened,  he  misjudged  her;  for  she 
stood  out  bravely  on  the  stage  with  all  the 
grace  and  ease  of  the  artiste  preceding  her.  The 
Signor  drew  the  bow  across  the  strings  for  the 
accompaniment  to  Schubert's  "  Erl  King,"  and  it 
seemed  to  Clare  as  her  voice  rang  out  in  its 
potent  emotion  that  a  soul  had  claimed  the  violin 
as  a  message  bearer.  "  Du  liebes  Kind,  komm 
geh'  mit  mir,"  the  voice  rang  out  by  itself ; 
"  Du  liebes  Kind,"  repeated  the  violin.  Emo- 
tion after  emotion  claimed  in  turn  the  magic 
strings.  Over  the  great  Covent  Garden  a  silence 
fell  that  was  reverent  in  its  intensity.  The  old 
violin  had  not  failed  in  its  mission  to  conquer, 
yet  no  one  realized  that  in  every  bar,  in  every 
intoning,  the  master  musician  was  putting  his 
soul. 

The  last  notes  of  the  song  died  away,  the  last 
verse  was  encored  and  repeated,  and  in  the 


A  RECOGNITION  137 

applause  that  followed  Clare  Barattoni  had  over- 
stepped the  bar  of  obscurity.  As  an  encore  she 
sang  Keiser's  "Two  Rivers,"  and  then  Lonspetti 
played  alone. 

An  eye-witness  that  evening  has  said  that 
a  slight  nervousness  was  apparent  when  he 
stepped  to  the  footlights.  The  hush  that  was 
over  the  house  like  a  spell  passed  off  quickly  as 
Lonspetti  was  greeted.  A  suppressed  expectancy 
pervaded  the  air,  and  Lonspetti  was  wondering  if 
his  solo  was  to  be  worthy  of  it  all.  He  had  only 
to  pass  the  bow  across  the  instrument  when  silence 
like  death  again  controlled  the  audience.  His 
solo  was  down  on  the  programme  as  "Memories" 
and  as  such  he  might  have  intended  it  when  he 
came  on  the  stage  that  evening ;  but  if  ever  a 
violin  told  its  own  story,  it  was  the  cry  of  a  broken 
heart  which  would  not  be  comforted.  There  was 
no  conventionality  about  Lonspetti's  playing.  His 
abrupt  mannerisms  and  tricks  were  distinctly  his 
own,  he  was  defying  methods  that  were  traditional, 
and  before  one  of  the  most  critical  of  audiences. 
Lonspetti  himself  had  given  way  to  the  old  instru- 
ment, and  it  was  telling  its  own  story,  fearless  of 
the  consequences.  The  music  needed  no  words 
to  interpret  its  meaning.  It  carried  one  away  with 


138  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

it  to  a  realm  where  soul  is  over  self,  where  sin  is 
unknown,  where  trouble  cannot  come  —  to  a  land 
where  Christ  is  all  in  all.  It  was  claimed  that 
in  his  music  there  was  loose  texture,  abrupt 
arpeggios,  crude  leaps;  still  others  claim  that  it 
was  supernatural.  We  are  apt  to  call  things  that 
we  do  not  understand  supernatural.  Still,  if  the 
tired  mind  is  consoled  with  fancies  of  another  and 
happier  sphere  than  this ;  if  the  heart  can  be  made 
to  hope  where  hope  is  not,  can  be  made  to  trust 
mankind  again,  can  be  comforted  if  only  for  the 
moment,  what  does  it  matter  in  what  form  the 
comfort  comes  ?  The  music  of  his  violin  was  a 
soul  ecstasy.  In  every  note  there  was  meaning, 
purpose,  and  feeling.  It  was  an  appeal  to  souls 
who  had  suffered  like  his  own.  Once,  after  a 
scale  of  most  extraordinary  hypnotic  sounds,  the 
music  died  away  slowly,  I  might  say  reverently. 
The  lights  in  the  vast  auditorium  went  out  one  by 
one  until  only  the  master  player  was  visible.  He 
was  still  playing,  though  the  sounds  were  scarcely 
audible.  The  melody  was  but  gradually  develop- 
ing itself.  Weird  fancies  involuntarily  confused 
the  mind  as  to  what  the  violin  was  saying.  It  is 
only  an  instant,  for  as  if  in  the  distance  you  can 
hear  a  nightingale  calling  to  its  mate,  the  very 


A  RECOGNITION  139 

stillness  and  utter  peace  of  the  night  you  can  feel 
as  you  listen  to  him. 

But  the  dream  is  over;  the  lights  in  Covent 
Garden  appear  again  like  so  many  stars  that 
had  been  obscured  for  a  moment  by  a  petulant 
cloud  that  would  pass  by.  The  nightingale  has 
ceased  its  calling.  You  listen,  and  in  the  stillness 
of  the  surroundings,  in  the  dreaminess  of  the 
music,  as  if  an  almost  divine  influence  were  con- 
trolling the  instrument,  rapturously,  heavenly,  and 
clearly,  an  angel  sang  of  peace.  It  was  the  finale. 
The  Signer  stepped  slightly  back  from  the  foot- 
lights, and  the  curtain  came  slowly  down ;  but 
the  end  was  not  to  be,  for  as  the  curtain  fell  there 
rose  from  the  vast  auditorium  applause  as  thunder 
falls.  The  Stradivarius  had  not  told  the  agony 
of  a  soul  in  bonds  for  naught.  It  had  needed 
no  other  voice  than  its  own  to  tell  its  love,  vain 
longing,  and  devotion.  The  great  audience  was 
not  satisfied,  for  the  witchery  of  a  violin  had  com- 
pletely overmastered  it.  There  were  faces  in  the 
house  that  night  that  were  flushed  from  excite- 
ment, there  were  others  who  seemed  intoxicated 
with  the  weird  melody.  Again  and  again  the 
tumult  of  applause  reached  the  ears  of  the  artists, 
and  only  when  it  proved  itself  interminable,  Lon- 


140  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

spetti  without  the  violin  stepped  out  again  before 
the  curtain.  It  was  his  intention  to  say  a  few 
word  of  thanks  when  the  applause  had  ceased ;  but 
hardly  had  he  time  to  make  himself  heard  when 
the  Australian  prima  donna  stepped  out  from  the 
wings  and  handed  him  his  violin.  Never  was 
an  act  more  graciously  done  or  more  heartily 
applauded.  The  Signer  bowed  his  appreciation, 
and  then  again  at  the  myriad  of  faces  whose  eyes 
were  riveted  upon  him.  For  a  moment,  and  but  a 
moment,  he  appeared  mystified,  as  if  his  reception 
was  something  undreamed  of,  unexpected,  then  he 
raised  his  violin  to  his  chin,  and  the  familiar  notes 
of  "  God  save  the  King  "  were  recognized.  There 
were  calls  for  the  other  artists,  and  while  the 
Signor  was  playing  the  prelude,  the  curtains 
parted,  and  Clare  with  the  Australian  singer 
appeared  before  them  and  acknowledged  the 
applause. 

A  few  minutes  later  Lonspetti  went  to  Clare's 
dressing-room. 

"  How  was  it,  little  girl  ? "  he  said  kindly,  as  he 
went  in  and  closed  the  door.  "  Was  it  more  than 
you  dreamed  it  would  be?"  He  had  reasons  to 
think  so,  for  Clare  was  crying.  He  sat  down  on 
the  divan  and  put  his  strong  arms  around  her. 


A   RECOGNITION  141 

"  How  delighted  Edythe  will  be  when  she  hears 
of  it!"  he  said. 

"  I  don't  want  her  or  any  one  to  know  about  my 
part  in  it,"  she  replied,  "for  I  didn't  sing  at  all 
well ;  the  audience  was  carried  away  by  the  violin, 
just  as  I  was." 

"  It's  a  queer  old  instrument,"  the  Signer 
laughed,  "but  it  never  seems  to  me  so  glorious 
as  when  you  accompany  it.  I'm  going  to  put  the 
witchery  on  your  voice;  my  old  Stradivarius  has 
been  blamed  enough." 

Clare  began  to  smile  through  her  tears.  "  You 
are  always  so  comforting,  Signor,"  she  said,  rising. 
"  I  don't  know  what  this  world  would  be  without 
you.  If  I  have  been  successful  to-night,  I  owe  it 
all  to  you." 

Lonspetti  was  helping  her  on  with  her  cloak 
when  there  came  a  knock  at  the  door.  "Two 
gentlemen  to  see  you,  sir,"  the  messenger  said, 
handing  the  Signor  the  cards,  then  he  added, 
"They  have  been  waiting  to  see  you  for  some  time." 

Lonspetti  re-read  the  bits  of  pasteboard  he  was 
holding.  They  were  both  Italian  names,  and  the 
Signor  looked  both  amused  and  perplexed. 
"  Really,"  he  said  somewhat  slowly,  "  and  you're 
quite  sure  these  cards  were  meant  for  me  ? " 


142  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

"  Quite  sure,  sir." 

"  Is  my  carriage  ready  ? " 

"  It  is,  sir." 

"Then  call  it.  Please  say  to  the  gentlemen 
that  the  lateness  of  the  hour  compels  me  to  defer 
seeing  them." 

"  I  will,  sir." 

He  threw  down  the  cards  and  turned  to  relieve 
Clare  of  some  of  her  flowers.  She  noticed  then 
the  annoyance  in  Lonspetti's  face. 

"  Old  friends  or  new  ? "  she  laughed  lightly,  as 
he  opened  the  door  for  her. 

"  It  is  a  hard  question  to  answer,"  was  the 
reply,  as  he  tucked  the  old  violin  under  his  long 
cloak;  but  Clare  thought  perhaps  the  Signer 
recognized  the  names,  and  they,  Lonspetti,  for 
when  they  reached  the  carriage  door  she  noticed 
two  gentlemen  standing  there  with  heads  uncov- 
ered, and  one  of  them  stepping  back  as  if  fearing 
to  intrude  exclaimed  with  all  the  fervour  and  en- 
thusiasm of  the  Italian  race :  — 

"  As  Italy  lives,  —  it  is  the  Prince." 


CHAPTER  XIX 

TEMPEST  TOSSED 

"  The  mills  of  the  gods  grind  slowly." 

MR.  COURTNEY  sat  at  his  study  window  think- 
ing. On  a  table  near  him  were  several  papers 
which  told  of  the  success  of  Clare  and  Lonspetti 
in  London.  He  realized  how  much  Clare's 
success  meant  to  Edythe,  and  how  few  things  did 
interest  her.  His  first  impulse  on  reading  the 
good  news  was  to  go  to  the  studio  and  see  her, 
and  he  would  have  done  so  had  not  Dr.  Mcllvaine 
chosen  the  same  time  to  call  upon  him.  He  had 
gone  now,  and  although  his  visit  had  been  a  short 
one,  it  had  also  been  long  enough  to  leave  behind 
its  impression.  Mr.  Courtney  began  to  realize,  as 
he  never  had  before,  that  the  universe  is  made 
up  of  many  worlds  like  stars,  and  that  each  will 
maintain  its  independence  and  individuality  until 
at  some  later  period  earth  and  sky  are  merged 
into  one  world,  beautiful  beyond  our  dreaming. 
But  the  last  picture  of  the  world  is  long  in  its 


144  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

making,  and  the  time  for  its  completion  no  man 
can  estimate ;  meanwhile  man  will  continue  to 
inhabit  the  world  and  share  its  difficulties  and 
heart  breaks. 

Rodgers  Courtney  was  trying  to  forget  Dr.  Mc- 
Ilvaine's  words  to  him  that  morning.  He  was 
endeavouring  to  shake  the  influence  of  the  visit  off, 
like  a  dream  one  is  anxious  to  forget.  But  the 
good  man's  words  seemed  engraven  everywhere 
he  would  turn.  "  Let  not  the  mortal  man  triumph 
over  that  which  is  the  immortal." 

In  a  few  words  he  had  taken  care  not  to  refer 
specifically  to  any  one  in  particular ;  but  he  did  say 
plainly,  that  a  man  who  has  consecrated  his  life  to 
the  work  of  the  Master  must  follow  only  in  His 
footsteps,  and  look  to  no  other  calling  that  does 
not  tend  for  future  betterment  in  the  service.  He 
omitted  any  reference  to  Mrs.  Merrall,  though  he 
spoke  feelingly  of  her  husband  and  her  children. 
It  was  very  plain  what  his  opinion  of  her  was, 
though  he  wisely  kept  his  w.ords  within  bounds. 
He  spoke  touchingly  of  Maurice,  and  of  his  vain 
efforts  to  see  his  mother,  who  chose  not  to  come  to 
him ;  of  the  illness  that  was  gradually  ending  the 
waiting,  and  Mr.  Courtney  sat  through  it  all,  silent 
and  miserable. 


TEMPEST   TOSSED  145 

"If  there  are  people,"  said  Dr.  Mcllvaine, 
"who  with  wide-open  eyes  seek  to  wreck  their 
own  lives,  the  divine  Providence  should  prevent 
them  from  dragging  others  into  the  chasm.  A 
wreck  invariably  washes  up  many  victims.  We 
are  often  powerless  to  prevent  a  ship  going  down 
at  sea;  but  we  are  able  to  cry  to  a  man  who 
is  pushing  from  shore  on  a  treacherous  sea  to 
stay,  lest  he  be  numbered  among  the  wrecked. 

Dr.  Mcllvaine  spoke  encouragingly  of  Mr. 
Courtney's  work  in  the  church,  of  his  ability,  not 
only  as  a  man,  but  as  a  preacher.  He  assured 
him  of  a  future  that  was  bright  and  promising ; 
but  Mr.  Courtney  was  too  crushed  in  spirit  to  see 
anything  hopeful  or  helpful  in  the  future.  The 
doctor  left  him  thinking,  and  silent. 

When  he  had  gone,  he  got  up  and  walked 
across  the  room  several  times  to  shake  off  the 
influence,  but  it  clung  to  him  with  all  the  per- 
sistency and  earnestness  of  the  man  himself.  If 
he  had  done  wrong,  he  was  willing  to  repent; 
but  he  could  see  no  cause  for  repentance. 

He  was  well  aware  that  he  was  in  love  with 
Edythe  Barattoni.  He  almost  wished  now  as  he 
thought  it  over  that  he  had  confessed  to  Dr. 
Mcllvaine.  In  the  end  the  consequences  must 


146  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

end  in  a  tragedy,  so  what  did  it  matter,  he 
thought,  if  it  came  sooner  or  later.  He  buried  his 
face  in  his  hands  as  he  thought  of  her,  guiltily, 
reproachfully,  tearfully.  She  belonged  to  some 
one  else.  He  had  no  right  even  to  think  of  her, 
no  right  to  love  her  as  he  did.  He  wondered  if 
he  was  a  weak  man  that  he  could  not  be  master 
of  himself ;  that  he  could  not  put  the  thought 
of  her  away,  and  then  he  realized  that  she  was 
more  to  him  now  than  she  was  a  week  ago, 
and  every  day  was  becoming  more  and  more 
a  part  of  his  being,  the  incentive  and  hope  to 
which  he  was  blindly  clinging.  It  was  true 
that  he  had  never  preached  as  he  had  since  the 
influence  of  Edythe  had  come  over  him.  In  the 
pulpit  he  spoke  as  an  inspired  man,  and  his 
words  rang  out  with  a  clearness  and  sincerity 
that  attracted  his  hearers  to  the  wonderful  ability 
and  power  of  this  new  worker  for  Christ.  At 
times  when  he  spoke  his  face  would  light  up  with 
an  almost  divine  radiance,  for  the  goodness  of  the 
man  told,  whether  he  stood  in  pulpit  or  parlour. 

Dr.  Mcllvaine  was  proud  of  him.  He  was 
glad  of  his  popularity  in  the  church,  of  his 
youth  and  ability.  Like  a  sword  from  a  clear 
summer's  sky  had  come  to  him  the  thought  that 


TEMPEST   TOSSED  147 

he  was  dividing  his  time  between  the  church  and 
the  land  called  Bohemia.  He  felt  that  he  had 
overestimated  the  young  man's  strength;  he  had 
thought  him  free  from  temptations  like  other 
men.  He  dared  not  believe  that  his  body  perish- 
able was  to  triumph  over  the  soul  imperishable. 
If  Rodgers  Courtney  lay  awake  nights  thinking 
of  Edythe,  and  likened  her  beauty  to  the  sun  in 
its  morning  glory,  Dr.  Mcllvaine  was  also  awake 
thinking  and  praying  that  Rodgers  Courtney 
would  see  the  folly  of  his  infatuation  before  the 
time  was  too  far  spent.  He  pictured  sadly  the 
end  if  he  let  him  go.  He  was  the  elder  man, 
the  wiser  for  his  years  and  experience.  It  was  his 
duty  to  go  to  the  younger  man  and  remonstrate, 
and  he  went  to  him  and  came  away  unsatisfied 
and  unhappy. 

Dr.  Mcllvaine's  love  all  his  life  had  been 
the  church.  He  could  not  fathom  any  love  so 
deep  or  so  holy.  To  him  women  had  been  kind, 
helpful,  and  thoughtful.  He  admired  beauty  of 
soul  more  than  charm  of  the  face.  He  had  cared 
for  only  one  woman,  and  she  was  his  mother. 
He  was  not  a  man  to  whom  to  confess  all  things, 
and  so  Rodgers  Courtney  thought  as  he  sat  there 
thinking.  He  knew  the  very  words  Dr.  Me- 


148  THE   TENTH    COMMANDMENT 

Ilvaine  would  answer  to  a  confession.  He  would 
be  kind,  but  he  was  not  the  man  to  sympathize 
with  him  or  to  be  merciful.  He  would  speak  of 
giving  her  up  and  forgetting  her  as  one  forgets 
a  beautiful  day  which  has  inspired  one  with  its 
brightness.  Rodgers  Courtney  knew  that  it  was 
not  in  his  make-up  to  forget.  And  as  he  let  the 
face  of  Edythe  rise  before  him  in  a  retrospection, 
and  her  eyes  looked  into  his,  the  more  convinced 
was  he  of  his  love  for  her,  even  though  the 
barriers  seemed  unsurmountable  and  hard. 

He  drew  from  his  pocket  her  miniature,  not 
that  the  ivory-pictured  face  was  necessary  to 
recall  her,  for  he  knew  her  every  feature,  her 
every  sigh  and  smile.  The  gray  twilight  of  even- 
ing came  in  through  the  curtains  and  lay  like 
a  mist  over  the  room.  It  shadowed  partly  the 
miniature  he  was  looking  at,  so  he  parted  the 
curtains  and  drew  his  chair  nearer  the  window. 
And  this  forbidden  love  had  been  the  only  love 
that  had  ever  come  to  him !  This  woman,  whose 
influence  had  broadened  him,  had  made  him  see 
justice  as  she  really  is,  not  as  she  is  wrongly 
pictured.  Through  her  eyes,  he  had  seen  the 
world  in  another  phase,  had  heard  the  cries  of  the 
struggling  and  oppressed,  not  always  the  banners 


TEMPEST  TOSSED  149 

of  the  victorious  and  successful,  with  which  the 
world  is  most  naturally  familiar. 

The  words  of  Lonspetti  came  to  him  in  his 
musing.  "Love  is  the  greatest  incentive  this 
life  holds."  "Yes,"  he  said  to  himself,  "it  is 
after  all  the  only  incentive.  Without  it  we  go 
blindly  through  the  days  leading  to  eternity,  for 
life  is  worth  the  living  only  when  the  heart  is 
young.  We  are  not  masters  of  our  own  fates, 
and  when  face  to  face  we  meet  them,  and  read 
life's  meaning  in  their  eyes,  it  depends  upon  us 
whether  we  hold  them,  or  pass  on  again  into  the 
lonely,  loveless  years,  which  may  be  the  inheri- 
tance of  the  future." 

The  face  in  the  miniature  began  to  wax  dim 
in  the  twilight,  so  he  rose  from  the  window, 
drew  the  curtains  together,  and  lighted  up  his 
study.  He  had  hardly  done  so  and  found  a  place 
for  the  picture  on  the  table  where  he  could  look 
at  it  when  there  come  a  knock  at  the  door,  and 
a  servant  announced  Mr.  Merrall. 

He  was  in  such  a  dreamy  state  that,  for  a 
moment,  he  could  hardly  realize  who  Mr.  Merrall 
was  ;  but  he  regained  his  thoughts  quickly,  and, 
replacing  the  miniature  in  his  pocket,  asked  that 
he  be  shown  to  the  study. 


150  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

Mr.  Merrall,  as  he  last  saw  him,  gave  one  the 
impression  that  life  was  worth  the  living.  The 
man  that  a  moment  later  stepped  across  his 
threshold  looked  as  if  life  had  been  the  reverse. 
His  face  had  a  look  which  only  comes  after 
great  trouble  and  resignation.  He  had  grown 
somewhat  slighter,  and  the  hair  over  his  temples 
had  turned  prematurely  white. 

When  Rodgers  Courtney  took  his  hand  in 
greeting,  he  felt  like  a  wicked  man  and  a 
hypocrite,  for  was  it  not  this  man's  wife  that 
he  loved  ? 

"  I  have  come,"  said  Mr.  Merrall,  after  a 
moment's  thought,  "to  ask  your  help  in  a  cause 
in  which  I  am  powerless.  I  have  come  to  ask  you 
to  reconcile  my  wife  to  her  children."  Rodgers 
Courtney  wished  that  this  day  had  been  omitted 
from  the  calendar.  "  Since  love  is  not,  I  will 
not  ask  her  to  return  to  me,  but  to  them.  It 
cannot  be  in  a  woman's  making  that  she  can 
rationally  and  deliberately  turn  against  her  own 
children  for  no  other  reason  than  dislike  for  her 
husband,  and  I  have  reason  to  hope  that  she  has 
repented." 

"  I  fear,  Mr.  Merrall,  that  my  services  would 
be  useless  and  unavailing  in  the  cause,"  Mr. 


TEMPEST  TOSSED  151 

Courtney  said  slowly.  "  Mrs.  Merrall  is  not  a 
woman  easily  influenced  by  any  one.  I  am  sure 
I  could  do  nothing." 

"But  will  you  make  the  attempt?" 

"  I  have  already  failed  once,"  Mr.  Courtney 
said.  "  You  may  remember  I  was  sent  on  the 
same  mission  at  the  time  she  left  —  her  children." 

"  And  for  which  I  can  never  hope  to  repay 
you,"  replied  Mr.  Merrall;  "but  time,  as  you 
know,  is  a  great  healer  of  trouble.  It  is  not 
likely  that  she  feels  to-day  as  she  did  then. 
She  acted  in  a  thoughtless  moment  when  fear 
of  the  consequences  availed  nothing.  I  have 
myself  to  blame  for  not  holding  her  back;  but 
the  time  was  one  of  great  trouble,  and  a  man 
does  not  always  act  at  such  times  as  he  might." 
He  paused  for  a  moment  as  if  to  steady  the 
tremor  of  his  voice.  "You  will  pardon  my 
coming  here,"  he  said  after  a  silence,  "  but  in 
time  of  trouble,  the  heart  looks  to  God  as  its 
helper,  and  I  have  come  to  you  as  his  priest  to 
intercede  for  me.  If  it  were  not  for  my  boys,  I 
would  go  to  the  other  ends  of  the  world  away 
from  the  scene  of  it  all,  but  I  cannot." 

"  They  are  nice  boys,"  Mr.  Courtney  said 
kindly.  "To  many  men  they  would  make  up 


152  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

for  any  loss."  He  spoke  with  feeling,  and  Mr. 
Merrall  noticed  that  the  young  clergyman  was 
deeply  moved.  He  did  not  realize  that  there 
was  a  common  grief  between  them. 

"  Children  cannot  always  make  up  to  a  man 
the  loss  of  his  wife,"  Mr.  Merrall  replied,  "at 
least,  I  have  found  it  so.  I  loved  Mrs.  Merrall 
too  deeply.  I  made  her  too  much  of  an  idol. 
My  every  thought  was  of  her  —  and  is  still;" 
then  he  added,  "It  may  be  in  your  love  for  the 
church  and  your  consecrated  life  to  its  calling 
that  you  have  never  loved  a  woman.  A  man 
can  love  well  but  once ;  but  when  that  love  does 
dawn  upon  his  life,  it  is  as  near  to  the  resurrec- 
tion of  the  soul  and  the  love  of  God  as  anything 
we  mortals  know  of." 

"Not  when  it  is  hopeless,"  Mr.  Courtney  said 
after  a  moment.  "  In  that  case  it  is  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  soul." 

Mr.  Merrall  studied  the  signet  ring  on  his  little 
finger  as  if  reflecting  on  the  wisdom  of  Mr.  Court- 
ney's words,  then  he  said,  glancing  up,  "  If  you'll 
take  the  advice  of  one  older  and  more  experi- 
enced, you  will  never  give  up  hope.  It  would 
seem  as  if  I  had  little  left  to  hope  for ;  and  yet  I 
am  full  of  hope.  I  am  confident  that  some  day 


TEMPEST   TOSSED  153 

Edythe  will  come  back  to  her  children  —  and  to 
me.  The  boys'  first  thought  in  the  morning  is  of 
their  mother,  though  Lionel  rarely  speaks  of  her 
now.  I  imagine  people  ask  him  where  she  is,  for 
he  can't  be  induced  to  go  outside  the  grounds 
alone.  The  other  boys  are  confident  that  their 
mother  is  coming  home  some  day ;  but  Lionel  has 
given  up  expecting  her." 

Mr.  Courtney  rose  from  his  chair  and  walked  to 
the  window.  There  was  an  unsteadiness  in  his 
movements  that  startled  Mr.  Merrall.  He  had 
hardly  reached  him  when  the  young  clergyman 
fell  backward  into  his  arms. 

There  is  a  saying  somewhere,  that  there  is  a 
limit  to  human  endurance,  even  when  the  heart 
is  strong. 


CHAPTER   XX 

IN   THE  VALLEY   OF  THE   SHADOW 

WHEN  Rodgers  Courtney  regained  conscious- 
ness he  was  startled  by  the  transformation  of  his 
rooms.  A  white-capped  nurse  was  standing  at 
his  window,  and  there  was  a  woman's  influence 
about  the  room.  He  noticed  the  unmistakable 
look  as  he  glanced  about  him.  Was  he  dreaming  ? 
he  wondered.  He  tried  to  think,  but  he  could  not. 
There  was  some  trouble  with  his  head,  he  knew, 
for  his  reasoning  powers  had  failed  him.  Scat- 
tered ideas  and  recollections  of  people  and  places 
passed  before  him  without  giving  any  clew  to  what 
had  happened.  He  was  unconscious  again  before 
he  realized  it,  and  the  next  time  he  knew  any- 
thing a  physician  was  standing  in  the  room.  He 
was  also  a  stranger  to  him.  Then,  like  the  imper- 
fect recollection  of  a  dream,  the  face  of  Edythe 
rose  before  him,  and  weak  and  sick  as  he  was,  he 
tried  to  put  it  from  him.  But  where  love  has 
come,  love  rules,  and  though  we  put  it  away  be- 


IN  THE   VALLEY  OF  THE   SHADOW        155 

cause  it  is  not  right  or  lawful  that  we  may  foster 
it,  it  ofttimes  spins  a  web  between  two  souls  too 
fine  to  see,  yet  too  strong  to  break  —  a  thread  of 
affinity  that  only  death  can  sever. 

"But  after  all  what  will  it  matter  fifty  years 
hence?"  Rodgers  Courtney  thought  to  himself 
as  he  lay  there  —  a  thought  that  invariably  soothes 
the  conscience  when  we  are  tempted  to  follow  in 
the  trail  of  the  serpent.  "What  will  it  matter," 
the  inner  voice  whispered,  "  fifty  years  hence  ? 
Fate  will  still  be  luring  her  children  to  destruc- 
tion, and  the  forbidden  love  of  to-day  will  be 
effaced  by  that  of  to-morrow.  As  long  as  the  old 
world  is  left  to  herself,  there  will  be  lovers  and 
lovers.  Our  love  and  our  shortcomings,  our 
faithfulness  and  our  faithlessness,  ay,  even  our 
heart  breaks,  are  only  on  the  slate  of  the  world 
to-day  and  are  obliterated  long  before  the  heart 
heals  or  death  bids  us  forget  them.  So  what  can 
it  matter  ?  Since  the  fall  of  Adam  and  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  garden  of  Eden  man  has  been  im- 
perfect, and  though  at  times  we  walk  in  a  gar- 
den not  unlike  our  dim  knowledge  of  the  garden 
of  Eden,  like  our  forefathers  we  are  soul-intoxi- 
cated by  the  wonderment  of  this  semi-paradise, 
and  taste  again  of  the  forbidden  fruit  of  the  tree 


156  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

upon  which  we  crucify  ourselves.  The  breaking 
of  a  heart  is  the  worst  death  man  knows  of. 
There  is  no  cure;  there  is  no  ease  except  the 
relief  which  may  attend  momentary  forgetting. 
A  wounded  heart  may  be  healed,  but  a  broken 
one,  never.  We  are  comforted  with  the  thought 
that  after  death  man  will  be  recompensed  for 
the  suffering  he  has  known  here,  but  it  seems 
doubtful,  even  in  the  blessed  understanding,  that 
recompense  may  be  had  in  heaven  for  the  sor- 
rows we  knew  here.  And  after  death  will  it 
matter  much  to  see  where  we  strayed  in  the 
pathway,  to  review  the  lost  battle  from  that 
higher  summit,  to  see  where  the  troops  fell  we 
might  have  saved,  unless  in  that  new  body  with 
which  we  have  risen  we  have  lost  our  individu- 
ality, our  earth  interests,  ay,  our  own  selves;  it 
will  not  come  as  a  comfort  to  see  the  Eden  that 
might  have  been  on  earth,  though  paradise  be 
gained." 

If  Mr.  Courtney  had  been  a  well  man  that  day, 
he  would  have  gone  to  Edythe  and  told  her  of 
his  love  for  her,  even  although  it  seemed  hope- 
less. Lonspetti  had  said  that  all  things  are 
possible  with  perseverance  and  faith. 

Mr.  Courtney  was  aware  that  several  had  left 


IN   THE  VALLEY   OF  THE   SHADOW       157 

cards  for  him  during  his  illness,  though,  at  the 
physician's  orders,  they  were  not  given  him.  He 
was  aware  only  that  morning  that  he  had  been  ill 
a  week.  It  seemed  to  him  only  an  illness  of  a  few 
hours.  He  did  not  realize,  in  the  restlessness  and 
despair  of  his  spirit,  the  weakness  of  his  physical 
self,  nor  how  sick  a  man  he  was.  He  did  not  real- 
ize either  of  how  little  of  the  day  he  was  conscious, 
or  of  the  anxiety  of  the  physician  for  his  recovery. 
Dr.  Mcllvaine  was  the  only  person  who  had  been 
allowed  to  see  him,  and  though  he  appeared  to  be 
conscious  once  or  twice  during  his  visits,  he  did 
not  appear  to  recognize  the  doctor,  or  even  notice 
the  presence  of  a  third  person  in  the  room. 
Occasionally,  his  eyes  would  follow  some  move- 
ment of  the  nurse,  though  he  never  asked  for  any- 
thing or  made  any  attempt  to  speak  until  that 
morning.  That  he  was  a  very  sick  man  was 
thought  by  the  prayers  of  Dr.  Mcllvaine  the  pre- 
vious Sunday  morning,  when  he  said :  "  And  the 
more  the  outward  man  decayeth,  strengthen  him. 
.  .  .  Give  him  unfeigned  repentance  for  all  the 
errors  of  his  life  past.  .  .  .  Yet  forasmuch  as  in 
all  appearances  the  time  of  his  dissolution  draweth 
near,  so  fit  and  prepare  him,  we  beseech  thee,  against 
the  hour  of  death  that  after  his  departure  hence  in 


158  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

peace  and  in  thy  favour  his  soul  may  be  received 
into  thine  everlasting  kingdom." 

Dr.  Mcllvaine  did  not  notice  among  his  well- 
beloved  parishioners  that  morning  a  face  that  he 
had  not  seen  there  in  many  a  day,  and,  had  the 
truth  been  known,  the  face  of  a  woman  he  despised. 
Had  he  seen  her,  he  would  have  noticed  the  un- 
feigned grief  on  her  face,  when,  after  the  sermon, 
he  spoke  briefly  of  a  life  that  was  passing  to  its 
Maker,  quietly,  unconsciously,  perhaps  gladly. 
"For  we  cannot  tell,"  he  emphasized,  "by  the 
brightness  of  a  face  or  the  warmth  of  the  hand 
clasp  how  much  sorrow  is  in  the  heart;  for  the 
weakness  of  even  an  oak  tree  does  not  show  till  it 
falls.  The  passing  onward  of  what  appears  to  be 
unfinished  lives,  unaccomplished  purposes,  causes 
some  men  to  reflect  unwisely  upon  the  wisdom  of 
Almighty  God,  which,  I  say  to  you,  is  blasphemous. 
It  is  not  our  right  to  question  the  will  of  the 
Redeemer  of  the  world ;  and  though  we  trust  that 
the  mission  of  our  dearly  beloved  brother  may  be 
continued  among  us,  yet  we  pray  if  his  usefulness 
in  His  service  has  reached  its  termination,  that  he 
may  be  taken  to  the  Father  and  enjoy  the  everlast- 
ing peace  of  His  kingdom." 


CHAPTER  XXI 
THE   SWING   OF  THE   PENDULUM 

THAT  afternoon  Edythe  sent  her  card  to  Rodgers 
Courtney.  The  nurse,  who  at  the  physician's 
instructions  never  allowed  a  message  to  reach  him, 
was  out  of  the  room  for  the  moment,  and  the  maid 
unwittingly  entered  and  handed  the  sick  man  the 
card. 

It  seemed  to  him  from  that  moment  that  life  was 
worth  the  living,  after  all,  and  that  hope  should  not 
be  sacrificed  upon  the  altar  of  despair.  It  seemed 
to  Rodgers,  as  he  awaited  her  coming,  that  it  was 
the  happiest  moment  he  had  ever  known.  Only 
that  morning  had  the  doctor  told  him,  unwillingly 
no  doubt,  that  the  end  seemed  inevitable,  and  he 
merely  asked  that  Dr.  Mcllvaine  be  sent  for.  Dr. 
Mcllvaine  was  dining  out  when  the  message  was 
left  for  him,  and  at  the  time  Rodgers  expected 
him,  perhaps  dreaded  it,  Edythe's  card  was  brought 
to  him. 

When  she  entered  the  room  on  that  bright, 
beautiful  afternoon,  Rodgers  Courtney  resolved 

159 


160  THE   TENTH    COMMANDMENT 

that  death  must  fight  for  him.  If  he  must  go,  it 
would  be  only  after  a  hard  struggle  —  after  a  com- 
bat. Only  that  morning  he  had  become  recon- 
ciled to  the  passing.  There  is  strength  in  a  great 
love,  and  that  strength  took  possession  of  him, 
body  and  soul,  like  renewed  life,  when  Edythe 
came  into  his  presence. 

"  I  have  come  because  I  heard  you  were  ill," 
she  said  gently,  as  she  took  his  hands  in  hers,  and 
smiled  upon  him  —  a  smile  full  of  pity,  compassion, 
and  kindliness.  It  seemed  to  Rodgers  that  the 
influence  she  brought  with  her  was  not  unlike  the 
great  and  good  influence  he  had  felt  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  dying,  when  the  tired  pass  from  the 
wilderness  to  the  peace  which  passeth  all  under- 
standing. He  could  die  under  such  an  influence 
as  hers. 

"  Your  coming  was  an  answer  to  prayer  that  I 
never  dreamed  would  be  granted,"  said  the  young 
clergyman,  "  though  I  prayed  night  and  day  to 
have  some  word  of  you.  I  feared  the  prayer  was 
useless,  perhaps  too  selfish." 

"  I  have  left  my  card  for  you  twice  since  I  heard 
you  were  ill ;  but  the  nurse  said  both  times  that  you 
had  just  fallen  asleep,  but  that  the  card  would  be 
given  you  on  your  waking." 


THE   SWING  OF  THE   PENDULUM          j6l 

"  They  never  reached  me,"  said  Rodgers,  sadly. 
"  I  wasn't  aware  that  any  one  save  Dr.  Mcllvaine 
had  taken  interest  enough  to  inquire  for  me.  I 
would  have  taken  more  interest  in  getting  well  had 
I  known  you  had  been  here." 

"And  your  other  friends,"  she  said,  "Madame 
Marie  and  little  Consuelo,  have  been  so  anxious 
about  you.  Consuelo  has  almost  worried  the 
housekeeper  here  to  death  by  her  frequent  inqui- 
ries about  you." 

"And  I  never  heard  of  it,"  said  Rodgers,  "when 
it  would  have  given  me  such  pleasure." 

"  It  often  seems,"  said  Edythe,  "  as  if  our 
friends,  by  some  strange  turn  of  the  wheel  of 
destiny,  had  all  deserted  us,  leaving  not  one 
behind  to  comfort  us ;  but  in  the  end  we  find  that 
we  have  been  mistaken.  I  have  found  it  so 
myself." 

"  But  are  we  always  mistaken  ?  "  said  Mr.  Court- 
ney. "  Sometimes  friends  prove  false,  or  again 
they  cannot  come  back  to  us.  The  thought  re- 
calls a  little  verse  which  I  often  think  of. 

" '  'Tis  such  a  little  while  we  walk  together 

Along  life's  way ; 

Some  weary  feet  that  walk  beside  us  falter 
Each  passing  day ; 


1 62  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

A  brief,  sweet  time  we  journey  on  together 

Through  fields  of  green, 
And  then  our  voices  break  the  silence,  never  — 

That  falls  between.'" 

"  It  is  so  true,"  said  Edythe ;  "  but  life  is  too 
short  to  dwell  upon  those  things.  There  is  so 
much  in  the  ever-doing  present  that  I  look  upon 
the  future  and  what  it  may  hold  for  us  as  too  far 
away  to  worry  over." 

"  It  is  better,  I  suppose,  if  one  can  forget  it ; 
but  sometimes,  almost  in  a  moment,  we  are 
brought  face  to  face  with  it.  When  we  least  ex- 
pect it,  we  find  ourselves  on  the  brink  where 
two  worlds  meet  —  as  I  have,"  he  added  slowly. 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment,  then  Edythe 
spoke : — 

"  But  you  have  turned  from  the  brink,"  she 
said,  letting  her  eyes  rest  full  upon  his  face ;  "  you 
are  recovering." 

"  The  doctor  tells  me  I  am  not,"  was  the  reply. 
"  He  told  me  only  this  morning  that  there  was 
no  hope."  He  noticed  as  he  said  this  that  a  look 
came  into  her  eyes  which  was  more  than  mere 
pity,  deeper  than  a  passing  regret ;  but  she  re- 
covered herself  quickly,  and  perhaps,  after  all, 
Rodgers  thought  as  he  looked  at  her,  he  was  mis- 


THE  SWING  OF   THE   PENDULUM          163 

taken.  She  had  risen  for  the  moment  and  was  re- 
arranging some  roses  on  a  table  beside  him.  She 
was  standing  back  to  him,  and  only  a  great  rose 
witnessed  the  tears  that  fell. 

"  You  want  to  get  well,  do  you  not  ? "  she 
asked,  as  she  again  turned  to  him. 

He  looked  her  full  in  the  eyes. 

"  If  I  could  have  the  one  wish  of  my  heart 
granted,  yes ;  if  not,  it  would  be  a  relief  to  go 
now." 

Perhaps  Edythe  knew  what  thought  crossed 
his  mind  when  he  answered  her,  yet  we  do  not 
know.  Sometimes  we  are  mistaken  in  the 
thought  that  occurs  to  us,  at  other  times  we  will 
not  trust  our  own  intuition;  so  it  was  with 
Edythe.  She  would  not  believe  it. 

She  was  standing  by  the  window  when  the 
nurse  returned,  and  although  Mr.  Courtney  no- 
ticed that  she  was  for  the  moment  surprised  at 
seeing  any  one  in  the  room,  he  saw  that  she  was 
attracted  by  the  beauty  of  the  stranger.  When 
Edythe  turned,  he  introduced  them.  "  Mrs.  Mer- 
rall,  Miss  Woodward."  The  nurse  was  inclined 
merely  to  bow  and  retire,  but  Edythe  went  for- 
ward and  shook  hands  with  her. 

"  I  am  glad  to  know  the  person  to  whom  Mr. 


1 64  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

Courtney  owes  his  recovery,"  she  said,  smiling; 
"  it  is  always  the  woman's  hand  behind  the 
doctor's  head." 

The  nurse  smiled,  but  Edythe  saw  that  the 
smile  was  devoid  of  hope. 

"  Perhaps,  after  all,  she  was  too  sanguine,"  she 
thought ;  for  as  she  turned  to  the  sick  man  again 
she  saw  that  the  look  of  death  was  upon  his 
face. 

She  was  going  now.  It  was  doubtful,  she 
thought,  if  she  should  ever  see  him  again.  She 
tarried  another  moment,  and  this  time  she  went 
close  to  him  and  laid  her  hand  upon  his  brow. 
It  was  very  feverish.  He  raised  his  hand  and 
laid  it  on  hers.  She  let  it  rest  there,  for  she  felt 
it  was  comforting  to  him.  He  raised  his  other 
hand  and  took  hers.  She  thought  he  said 
"  Edythe." 

We  will  concede  so  much  for  the  dying. 
But  she  had  said  good-by  now,  and  the  nurse 
had  closed  the  door  behind  her.  Mr.  Courtney 
wanted  her  to  go  to  the  door  with  Mrs.  Merrall, 
but  she  failed  to  understand  him. 

On  the  stairs  Edythe  came  face  to  face  with 
Dr.  Mcllvaine  hurrying  up.  He  took  off  his  hat 
at  seeing  her  and  stepped  aside  to  let  her  pass, 


THE   SWING   OF  THE   PENDULUM          165 

and  she  saw  that  in  his  hand  he  held  a  book  of 
Common  Prayer. 

When  he  entered  the  sick  room,  he  was  sur- 
prised at  the  change  in  Mr.  Courtney.  He  looked 
brighter  than  he  had  seen  him  during  his  illness. 
He  had  come  ready  to  read  the  prayers  for  the 
dying,  and  to  administer  the  last  rites  of  the 
church.  He  found  that  Mr.  Courtney  was  not 
prepared  for  either. 

"  I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  get  well,"  the 
younger  clergyman  said  as  he  took  Dr.  Mcllvaine's 
hands  in  his  in  greeting;  and  the  bird  in  his 
window,  which  had  been  silent  since  his  illness, 
interrupted  them  with  its  singing. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

WHEN   ANGELS   ARE  VEILED 

To  the  inmates  of  Lambeth  workhouse,  near 
London,  the  names  of  Lonspetti  and  Clare 
Barattoni  had  no  especial  significance  or  interest. 
They  were  merely  aware  that  they  were  to  be 
entertained  in  some  way,  to  the  exact  particulars  of 
which  not  one  of  them  had  even  given  a  thought. 
It  is  Madame  Marie  who  has  said,  and  aptly : 
"  Though  we  may  cling  to  hope  and  ambition  on  the 
direct  and  rapid  road  to  the  poorhouse,  it  is  an 
undeniable  fact  that  they  never  accompany  us 
within  its  portals.  They  are  as  fickle  as  love  when 
poverty  hovers  near." 

The  audience  that  were  gathered  together  that 
afternoon  looked  more  as  if  it  were  to  witness  a 
funeral  than  a  theatrical  performance.  There  was 
a  hopelessness,  a  sadness,  in  truth  a  pathetic 
weariness  in  the  haggard  faces  that  impressed  one 
with  the  uncertainty  and  the  fickleness  of  fortune. 
Clare  noticed  it  as  she  came  upon  the  stage  that 

1 66 


WHEN   ANGELS   ARE  VEILED  167 

day,  and  though  the  usual  welcome  was,  as  she 
wrote  home  in  a  letter,  "  hesitatingly  and  discreetly 
given,"  she  felt  that  what  there  was  of  it  was 
sincere. 

She  opened  the  entertainment  by  an  impromptu 
address  in  which  she  told  her  audience  of  how 
the  beauty  of  their  home  and  surroundings  had 
appealed  to  her  when  she  had  driven  through 
there  the  week  before,  and  how,  in  order  to  know 
something  of  its  people,  she  had  gladly  accepted 
the  invitation  extended  to  her  by  one  of  the  officers 
to  visit  there  and  to  become  acquainted  with  them 
all.  The  weary  old  faces  on  the  benches  began 
to  light  up.  The  sincerity,  combined  with  the 
extreme  youth  and  freshness  of  the  speaker, 
appealed  to  them.  Lonspetti,  who  was  in  the 
audience,  noticed  with  what  heartfelt  interest  they 
listened  to  this  young  girl ;  and  while  her  address 
was  brief,  she  managed  to  tell  them  some  little 
incidents  of  her  visit  to  England,  although  he 
noticed  she  made  no  reference  whatever  to  the 
success  she  had  personally  met  with.  Clare  con- 
cluded her  remarks  by  apologizing  for  the  time  she 
had  taken,  and  as  the  applause  that  followed  died 
away,  she  introduced  Signer  Lonspetti.  For  an 
instant,  though  only  for  an  instant,  the  audience 


168  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

looked  disappointed  —  perhaps  suspicious  of  the 
exchange  that  had  been  made  without  their  assent 
or  approval  —  but  it  passed  off  quickly  when  Lon- 
spetti  drew  the  bow  across  the  silver-toned  strings. 
Those  who  would  know  what  success  is,  the  suc- 
cess that  we  dream  of,  success  that  is  not  adulter- 
ated with  worldly  kindness  and  forbearance ;  those 
who  complain  of  the  insincerity,  the  falsity,  the 
fickleness  of  the  average  audience,  should  play  to 
the  inmates  of  a  workhouse. 

Among  the  guests  who  with  the  officers  and 
their  families  occupied  the  front  row  of  benches 
was  one  young  man.  He  had  never  been  in  a 
workhouse  before,  and  he  regarded  the  inmates 
curiously  and  critically.  Lonspetti,  who  had  sat 
near  him  during  Clare's  address,  noticed  him  from 
the  fact  that  he  was  the  only  young  man  present, 
and  as  one  who  could  define  character  at  a  glance 
he  felt  that  he  was  inwardly  condemning  the 
people  about  him  rather  than  pitying  them.  He 
saw  in  his  face  smiling  contempt  as  the  worn  faces 
brightened  up  in  their  interest,  and  Lonspetti  de- 
cided as  he  stepped  on  the  stage  that  day  if  there 
was  a  way  of  touching  his  heart  he  would  make 
him  something  more  than  a  mere  "  looker-on 
in  Vienna."  It  is  often  said  that  an  artist  plays 


WHEN   ANGELS   ARE   VEILED  169 

for  one  face  in  the  audience,  and  the  Signor  was 
thinking  of  one  when  he  placed  the  violin  under 
his  chin  and  began  to  play.  The  music  began  to 
fill  the  solemn  air  with  its  sweetness.  Lonspetti 
was  conscious  of  attracting  the  young  man's  atten- 
tion away  from  his  less  fortunate  brethren.  He 
saw  the  distorted  faces  light  up  until  some  of  them 
looked  to  him  beautiful  from  where  he  stood. 

But  the  music  ceased,  perhaps  abruptly.  Before 
the  listeners  had  time  to  show  their  appreciation 
the  violin  had  swung  into  another  melody.  "  The 
Boatmen's  Song,"  it  was  noted  on  the  programme. 
It  commenced  softly,  and  as  it  swelled  into  fuller 
melody  Clare's  voice  could  be  heard  above  the 
music  of  the  instrument  intoning  in  perfect  unison. 
In  listening  to  the  song  it  was  almost  possible  to 
picture  the  blueness  and  the  tranquillity  of  the  river 
in  its  twilight  glory,  the  tender  whisperings  of  the 
waves  one  to  each  other,  the  shuddering  sweetness 
of  the  wind  swaying  the  tiny  craft  home  to  its 
mooring.  And  no  one,  not  even  Lonspetti  him- 
self, could  tell  you  how  the  spell  was  wrought. 
He  had  come  down  from  the  platform  now,  and 
many  were  those  who  pressed  forward  to  shake 
his  hand. 

"You've    been    a    sailor     sometime    yourself, 


I/O  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

maybe,"  an  old  woman  murmured  as  she  took  his 
outstretched  hand  in  greeting. 

"  Enough  of  one  to  be  in  sympathy  with  them," 
was  the  reply,  and  then  he  added,  "  Do  you  come 
of  fisher  folk  ? " 

"Ay,"  came  the  answer,  and  there  was  tri- 
umph in  the  voice. 

A  daughter  of  one  of  the  officials  gave  a  harp 
solo,  and  then  Clare  again  took  the  stage.  She 
had  on  a  hat  that  appeared  several  sizes  too  large 
for  her,  but  before  her  audience  could  guess  its 
meaning  she  told  them  that  she  was  going  to  do 
for  their  amusement  what  she  had  never  done 
before,  and  what  she  probably  never  would  per- 
mit herself  to  do  again,  take  the  part  of  a  tough 
girl.  She  laughed  merrily  when  she  said  it,  and 
in  an  instant  all  the  faces,  the  happiest  down  to 
the  saddest-looking  individual  in  the  audience, 
were  smiling.  She  explained  that  as  all  of  them 
had  probably  not  seen  a  variety-hall  singer  give 
a  tough  song  with  its  many  variations,  she  would 
do  her  best  at  an  imitation,  and  if  the  toughness 
proved  too  tough  for  any  of  them,  she  hoped  that 
they  would  pardon  her.  If  you  had  been  there, 
you  would  have  seen  that  her  audience  was  all 
hers  to  do  as  she  would  with  them.  Her  accom- 


WHEN   ANGELS   ARE   VEILED  171 

paniment  began  with  a  most  undecided,  lagging 
movement,  and  then  the  tough  song  introduced 
itself.  It  was  hardly  as  tough  as  the  majority  c£ 
the  audience  had  been  led  to  expect,  still  the  idea 
that  some  of  them  at  some  time  or  another  had 
been  in  touch  with  life  and  its  vanities  went  to 
their  heads  like  wine,  and  they  applauded  her 
heartily.  She  returned  when  she  found  that  their 
applause  was  a  decided  recall,  and  sang  something 
about  a  little  darky  boy  who  had  the  awful  pro- 
pensity for  appropriating  other  people's  chickens, 
and  her  audience  was  as  wildly  enthusiastic  as 
before.  If  there  had  been  any  hesitation  in  their 
applause  at  the  beginning  of  the  afternoon,  it  had 
passed  away.  If  they  had  once  been  suspicious  of 
what  they  were  to  receive  in  return  for  their  atten- 
tion, they  were  now  no  longer  doubtful.  Their 
applause  was  stirred  by  the  emotion  of  the  heart, 
not  by  the  purse  strings.  The  entertainment  was 
almost  over  now,  and  perhaps  they  realized  it ;  for 
head  after  head  began  to  drop  down  on  the  back 
of  the  benches  in  a  shame-faced  attempt  to  hide 
the  tears  that  would  come  and  reveal  themselves. 
Lonspetti  was  playing  now,  and  the  young  girl 
who  had  done  so  much  to  reawaken  happiness  in 
their  hearts  was  singing.  They  knew  that,  al- 


172  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

though  their  eyes  were  dimmed  with  tears.  They 
knew,  too,  that  the  song  was  "  Auld  Lang  Syne." 
'Clare  had  asked  them  to  join  in  the  chorus,  but 
when  she  came  to  it,  not  a  voice  was  raised,  and 
the  violin  alone  responded.  Strangely,  majesti- 
cally, sweetly,  it  filled  the  air  with  the  music  that 
was  stirring  its  soul.  Those  among  its  listeners 
who  were  tear  eyed,  brushed  them  away  to  gaze 
upon  the  player.  "  Should  auld  acquaintance  be 
forgot  ? "  the  violin  was  pleading,  but  the  auld 
Stradivanus  took  unto  itself  the  heart  answer  that 
came  back  to  it  from  the  people  of  Lambeth  work- 
house. 


CHAPTER   XXIII 
CHAINS   THAT   GALL 

WHEN  John  Rodgers  Courtney  went  out  for  the 
first  time  in  the  latter  part  of  June,  it  looked  to 
him  as  if  the  inhabitants  of  the  great  city,  like  the 
Arabs,  had  folded  their  tents  and  quietly  stolen 
away.  Although  it  was  almost  July,  he  had  not 
realized  it  until  he  saw  how  deserted  the  streets 
looked. 

As  he  walked  on  he  noticed  that  several  turned 
and,  he  thought,  looked  after  him.  He  began  to 
wonder  if  he  had  known  them  and  had  forgotten 
them.  He  found  it  so  hard  to  recall  people  since 
his  illness,  but  "  if  they  had  known  me,  they  would 
have  spoken  to  me,"  he  thought.  He  didn't  real- 
ize what  a  sick  man  he  looked. 

As  he  walked  on  he  was  aware  of  two  ladies 
stopping  abruptly  as  they  passed,  and  he  thought 
they  intended  to  speak  to  him.  There  was  some- 
thing about  the  younger  of  the  women  that  for  the 
moment  seemed  familiar  to  him,  but  he  raised  his 
hat  merely  and  passed  on.  Then,  like  a  voice 


1/4  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

from  the  past,  he  seemed  to  hear  some  one  saying, 
"  It's  Mr.  Courtney."  The  words  began  to  impress 
themselves  upon  his  mind.  Over  and  over  he 
heard  the  words  repeated ;  it  was  a  familiar  voice, 
yet  he  couldn't  place  it.  He  tried  to  think,  and 
the  more  he  thought,  the  more  he  realized  that  his 
brain  was  in  a  torpid  state,  and  not  active.  The 
stars  he  noticed,  as  he  had  not  done  before,  were 
all  out ;  the  moon,  too,  was  at  its  fullest  and  shin- 
ing in  all  its  glory  like  a  bride  in  her  home  in  the 
space  realm.  The  stars  seemed  nearer  to  him  to- 
night than  ever.  He  recalled  for  the  first  time  in 
years  something  his  mother  had  told  him  that 
when  those  we  love  die  and  pass  to  heaven,  an- 
other star  is  added  to  that  firmament  of  light. 
Some  day,  perhaps,  the  stars  would  be  dearer  to 
him  than  to-night  Death  always  binds  us  closer 
to  heaven. 

He  was  about  to  turn  his  face  homeward  when 
there  was  a  step  behind  him  and  some  one 
said :  — 

"  Isn't  this  Mr.  Courtney  ?  " 

Mr.  Courtney  turned.  It  was  Charles  Land- 
man,  the  painter  of  miniatures. 

"  You  had  forgotten  me,"  he  said  as  they 
shook  hands. 


CHAINS   THAT   GALL  175 

"  No,  indeed,"  replied  Mr.  Courtney,  slowly, 
yet  with  the  old-time  firmness  in  his  voice. 
"  I  haven't  forgotten  you,  though  it  seems  years 
since  we  met,"  then  he  added,  "You  may  not 
have  heard  of  it,  but  I  have  been  at  death's  door 
for  the  last  month,  and  my  life  before  that  seems 
very  long  ago." 

"  No,  I  had  not  heard  of  it,"  said  Landman. 
"  I  have  seen  few  of  the  old  friends  for  months. 
Luck  has  been  down  on  me,  and  I've  kept  out 
of  sight;  it's  always  best  under  those  circum- 
stances, you  know." 

"  It  should  not  be  so,"  said  Mr.  Courtney, 
"  I  would  have  done  all  in  my  power  had  you 
come  to  me." 

The  two  men  walked  on  in  silence  for  a 
moment,  then  the  artist  said  :  "  I  believe  you, 
and  I  thank  you,  but  I  have  asked  my  last  favour 
of  any  one.  Your  work  has  been  different  from 
mine,  and  it  has  brought  you  into  contact  with 
different  people ;  still  I  suppose  the  world  is 
the  same  all  the  world  over,  with  only  caresses 
and  smiles  for  the  fortunate." 

"  You  think  so,  because  you  have  found  it  so," 
replied  Mr.  Courtney,  though  he  spoke  with 
difficulty.  "  By  the  way,"  he  added,  "  suppose 


1 76  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

we  take  a  carriage  at  the  next  stand  and 
drive  up  to  Madame  Marie's,"  and  the  artist 
acquiesced. 

Only  when  they  were  seated  did  Mr.  Courtney 
realized  how  weak  he  was.  He  knew  at  that 
moment  that  he  should  be  returning  home,  and 
that  it  would  have  been  better  still  had  he  not 
come  out  at  all.  The  night  air,  he  well  knew, 
was  dangerous  to  him  in  his  convalescence. 
Mr.  Landman  roused  him  from  himself. 

"  What  do  you  hear  of  Mrs.  Merrall  lately  ?  " 
he  said.  "  Has  she  returned  to  her  husband  ?  " 

"  I  had  not  heard  of  it,"  Mr.  Courtney  replied. 

"She's  a  fine  woman,"  continued  Landman. 
"  I  have  always  admired  her.  She  was  too  great 
a  light  to  be  concealed  under  a  bushel.  People 
told  her  so  when  she  gave  up  the  stage.  She 
probably  thinks  better  of  their  advice  now." 

"  Probably,"  added  Mr.  Courtney,  for  something 
to  say. 

"That  reminds  me,  I  made  a  miniature  of 
her  for  your  collection,  did  I  not?"  he  asked; 
"surely  I  have  not  been  dreaming." 

"Yes,  and  it  disappeared  during  my  illness," 
replied  Mr.  Courtney ;  "  I  have  not  seen  it  since." 

"  And  you  have  made  inquiries  concerning  it  ?  " 


CHAINS   THAT   GALL  177 

"  No,  for  when  I  realized  it  was  no  longer  in 
my  possession,  it  was  too  late." 

"  Did  you  interest  your  physician  and  nurse 
in  it.  They  knew,  of  course,  who  had  access  to 
your  room." 

"  The  physician  at  the  beginning  of  my  illness 
was  a  stranger  to  me,"  said  Mr.  Courtney.  "  I 
believe  his  name  was  Elliott.  The  nurse  he  sent 
was  with  me  up  to  a  few  days  ago ;  she  knew 
nothing  of  the  miniature,  for  I  asked  her." 

"  But  the  physician  you  spoke  of,  perhaps  he 
found  it  and  put  it  away  ? " 

"  No,  I  should  have  heard  of  it,"  he  said. 

"Well,  I  trust  the  two  miniatures  will  never 
meet,"  he  exclaimed.  "  To  make  two  miniatures 
alike  I  consider  almost  as  bad  as  betraying  a 
trust." 

They  had  reached  Madame's  now.  As  the 
carriage  stopped,  a  child's  face  was  seen  at  the 
window  and  then  disappeared  to  welcome  them 
at  the  door.  She  ,did  not  know  Mr.  Landman, 
but  after  greeting  Mr.  Courtney,  she  extended 
her  hand  in  all  graciousness  to  the  stranger, 
and  said,  as  Mr.  Courtney  introduced  her,  "I'm 
glad  to  know  you,  Mr.  Landman,  very  glad." 

As  Consuelo  stood   there   that   moment  in  the 


THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

light  from  the  hall  chandelier  she  looked  in  her 
white  dress  as  if  heaven  had  opened  and  she 
had  just  stepped  to  earth.  Mr.  Courtney  noticed 
how  the  artist's  face  brightened  at  her  greeting. 
She  went  in  advance  of  them  and  throwing 
aside  the  portieres  said,  with  great  gravity,  "  My 
lords  and  ladies,  Mr.  Courtney  and  Mr.  Land- 
man;  two  estimable  and  worthy  gentlemen." 

There  was  some  one  playing  at  the  farther 
end  of  the  room  from  which  Madame  Marie 
came  to  greet  them. 

She  shook  hands  cordially  with  Mr.  Landman, 
whose  eyes  were  still  fastened  on  the  bewitching 
Consuelo,  then  turning  to  Mr.  Courtney  said, 
"I  fear  in  your  effort  to  give  honour  and  pleas- 
ure to  your  friends,  you  are  overtaxing  your 
strength." 

"  It's  a  great  sacrifice  to  stay  away  from  you 
all,"  said  the  clergyman.  The  next  moment  he 
was  holding  another  woman's  hands,  and  he  was 
conscious  of  some  one  saying,  "  It  is  a  pleasure 
to  see  you  out  again." 

What  followed,  some  introductions,  some  allu- 
sions to  the  presence  of  a  Mr.  Gabalosky,  the 
Russian  pianist,  among  them,  all  seemed  to  him 
like  a  confused  murmur,  like  a  sea  of  voices. 


CHAINS   THAT   GALL  179 

He  was  thankful  when  he  found  a  chair  in  the 
recess  of  a  rear  bay  window,  for  it  seemed  to 
him  as  if  the  world  was  rolling  from  under  his 
feet.  He  was  aware  that  some  one  offered  him 
a  glass  of  water,  and  he  found  that  it  was  the 
ever  thoughtful  Consuelo.  He  could  feel  the 
pressure  of  her  small  but  firm  little  hand  on 
his  arm  as  she  stood  beside  him,  and  he  became 
aware  of  what  a  womanly  little  touch  she  had. 
He  became  conscious,  too,  that  some  one  was 
playing  near  him.  He  thought  it  was  Schil- 
ler's "  Lost  Hope."  He  fancied,  too,  that  he 
heard  a  zither  sighing  at  intervals,  almost  as 
low  and  sweet  as  a  baby's  whisper.  A  great 
peace  came  over  him.  He  could  feel  Con- 
suelo nestling  on  the  arm  of  his  chair.  He 
opened  his  eyes  to  smile  upon  her,  and  he  became 
aware  that  Edythe  was  standing  not  so  very  far 
away  from  him.  He  noticed  that  her  eyes  were 
upon  the  player.  It  seemed  to  him  as  she  stood 
there  that  she  was  not  looking  as  strong  as  when 
he  first  saw  her,  or  perhaps  he  had  not  noticed 
until  to-night  the  etherealness  of  her  figure  or 
the  spirituality  of  her  face.  There  was  such  a 
world  of  tenderness  in  her  glorious  eyes.  Perhaps 
the  earnestness  of  his  gaze  attracted  her,  for  she 


180  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

turned  and  looked  at  him,  and  he  still  kept  his 
eyes  upon  her  long  after  she  turned  away,  and 
the  thought  came  to  him,  was  she  aware  of  his 
love  for  her  ?  Whether  she  was  or  not,  he  could 
not  tell,  for  she  gave  no  answer  in  her  eyes. 
She  seemed  tenderer  with  him  than  before,  but 
he  knew  that  that  was  because  he  had  been  so 
ill.  Sympathy  should  not  be  mistaken  for  love, 
though  it  sometimes  leads  to  it.  She  came  up 
to  him  at  that  moment  and  told  him  of  two  little 
artistes,  very  dear  friends  of  hers,  who  were  going 
to  sing  for  them,  and  she  wanted  him  to  be  sure 
and  listen  to  them. 

"  They  are  the  twin  sisters  Mather,"  added 
Consuelo  in  a  whisper.  "We  must  keep  very  still 
now,"  she  said  gravely,  putting  her  wee  fingers 
to  her  lips.  Edythe  smiled  upon  her  and  sat 
down  not  very  far  away.  It  was  Madame  her- 
self who  brought  the  young  girls  forward.  Mr. 
Courtney  noticed  that  they  were  very  pretty,  and 
although  they  acknowledged  with  ease  the  ap- 
plause that  greeted  them,  they  lacked  the  manner 
of  the  professional.  An  angular-looking  gentle- 
man, with  an  immense  head  of  hair,  took  his  seat 
at  the  piano.  The  song  was  "  My  Old  Kentucky 
Home."  Mr.  Courtney  was  at  once  aware  of 


CHAINS   THAT  GALL  l8l 

the    remarkable    sweetness    and    pathos  of   their 
voices. 

"  The  head  must  bow,  and  the  back  will  have  to  bend 
Wherever  the  darkey  may  go  ; 
A  few  more  years,  and  our  troubles  all  will  end 
In  the  land  where  the  sugar-cane  grow." 

Madame  was  watching  Mr.  Courtney's  face, 
and  she  saw  that  his  interest  had  been  aroused. 
She  saw,  too,  that  he  applauded  as  heartily  as  the 
rest  of  the  company  when  the  song  was  over. 

Following  the  little  twin  sisters  Mather,  some 
one  recited,  and  then  Mr.  Courtney  rose  to  go. 

"  I  always  forget  in  your  hospitable  home, 
Madame  Marie,  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  time 
and  tide." 

"There  isn't  for  those  who  will  not  heed  it, 
like  myself,"  laughed  Madame.  "  The  division  of 
time  into  hours,  days,  and  years  was  merely  one 
man's  invention,  and  his  superstitious  descendants 
have  been  carrying  it  out  to  an  alarming  extent 
ever  since.  I  find  that  we  must  arrange  time  to 
our  own  liking  —  haste  has  lost  many  a  fortune. 
Is  it  not  Shakespeare  who  so  truly  says,  '  There's 
a  time  and  means  for  every  man  alive '  ? " 

"  I  think  it  is,"  said  Mr.  Courtney.  "  Some 
day,  perhaps,  the  world  will  move  on  a  more 


1 82  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

systematic  and  scientific  basis.  Time  among  other 
things  will  have  undergone  a  change,  though  I 
suppose  it  is  rather  an  old  tree  to  be  transplanted." 

"  Hinges  may  be  got  for  old  gates  as  well  as 
new  ones,"  replied  Madame,  laughing  again;  "not 
that  I  have  any  hopes  of  the  world  ever  swinging 
on  a  different  axis,  for  it  never  will." 

He  was  on  his  way  out  only  the  moment  before, 
and  now  he  found  himself  seated  again  and  talk- 
ing to  Consuelo  and  one  of  the  little  Mather  girls, 
and  he  became  aware  in  the  midst  of  all  this 
music,  life,  and  light  that  he  was  feeling  more 
like  himself  than  he  had  for  weeks.  For  the 
moment  the  weariness  and  the  weakness  of  his 
illness  seemed  to  have  left  him.  Strength  seemed 
to  be  coming  back  to  him.  Until  that  moment 
he  had  not  noticed  how  much  of  a  company  it 
was.  It  was  always  so  bright  at  Madame  Marie's. 
Though  it  was  a  summer's  night,  the  long  rooms 
were  cool.  He  noticed  that  the  lights  in  the 
room  had  been  subdued  by  pink  shades  of  some 
soft  silk  texture ;  a  breath  of  wind  stirred  the 
curtains  at  the  windows  gently.  He  looked  about 
for  Edythe.  He  was  about  to  ask- Consuelo  for 
her  when  he  remembered  that  some  one  was 
singing  in  the  bay  window,  one  of  Schumann's 


CHAINS   THAT   GALL  183 

ballads,  so  he  leaned  back  against  the  cushions 
to  listen.  And  he  found  himself  gradually  for- 
getting the  singer  and  thinking  and  dreaming  of 
Edythe.  But  the  song  passed  out  into  the  night 
and  the  world,  and  Consuelo  awakened  him  from 
his  revery. 

"You  mustn't  look  so  sad,"  she  said,  nestling 
closer  to  him,  "  or  some  day  when  you're  not  ex- 
pecting it  I  shall  feel  so  sorry  for  you  that  I 
shall  hug  you,  and  hug  you  hard,"  she  emphasized. 

"  If  I  thought  you  were  a  young  woman  of  your 
word,  as  I  believe  you  to  be,  from  this  day  forth 
I  would  look  no  other  way  than  sorrowful." 

At  this  Consuelo  laughed  merrily  and  threw 
her  arms  about  his  neck  and  kissed  him. 

"  I  am  a  young  woman  of  my  word,"  she  said 
haughtily. 

Edythe  saw  that  he  was  going,  and  she  went 
forward. 

"  You  look  brighter  for  coming  to-night,"  she 
said,  taking  his  hand  in  parting.  "  It  seemed 
like  old  times  to  have  you  with  us  again." 

It  was  in  his  heart  to  tell  her  how  much  pleas- 
ure it  had  given  him  to  be  there,  and  to  be  with 
her ;  but  just  then  some  one  began  to  sing  again, 
and  the  opportunity,  such  as  it  was,  was  lost. 


1 84  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

When  he  reached  home  it  was  two  o'clock. 
There  was  an  envelope  lying  on  his  study  table 
addressed  in  Dr.  Mcllvaine's  familiar  handwrit- 
ing. On  the  corner  was  written  "12  P.M."  He 
opened  it  to  find  merely  his  visiting  card.  He 
could  feel  the  doctor's  influence  about  the  room, 
turn  where  he  would.  Several  times  he  thought 
he  must  still  be  in  waiting,  and  he  would  yet  see 
a  figure  clad  in  a  black  cassock  move  and  come 
toward  him.  He  pushed  aside  the  curtains,  and 
turning  the  lights  low  sat  down  by  the  window. 
There  was  a  strong  breeze  blowing.  Self  was 
commencing  to  struggle  with  his  soul  again,  and 
only  one  could  win  in  the  end,  he  knew.  He 
had  come  to  a  turning-point  in  his  life  where  two 
roads  met.  There  was  no  hesitating  on  the 
brink.  He  tried  to  frame  a  prayer  as  he  sat 
there  meditating,  but  he  failed,  and  when  the  day 
changed  life  with  the  night,  Rodgers  Courtney 
was  still  awake  and  thinking  —  self  and  soul 
were  still  contending,  though  it  was  no  longer 
an  evenly  matched  combat. 

"  If  I  give  up  one,  it  must  be  the  work,"  he 
said.  "  If  I  cannot  preach  the  gospel,  I  can 
always  live  it ;  and  God  will  be  merciful,  since  He 
is  all  love,  and  love  is  eternal." 


CHAPTER   XXIV 
THE   DIE   HAS   BEEN   CAST 

"  BUT  God  never  intended  us  for  each  other." 

"  In  your  heart,  you  do  not  think  that,  Edythe." 

The  afternoon  was  cool  and  still.  Some  one 
was  playing  an  organ  in  the  street.  Edythe 
drew  her  chair  nearer  the  window  to  listen  to 
it,  but  Mr.  Courtney  never  turned  from  where 
he  had  stood  beside  her.  The  laughter  of  some 
children  reached  them.  Edythe  looked  up  at  him, 
and  smiled. 

"  There  is  nothing  in  the  world  like  the  happi- 
ness of  children,  is  there  ? "  she  said. 

He  walked  to  the  window  and  looked  out.  It 
is  doubtful  if  he  heard  her  question. 

"  We  are  too  far  up  to  see  them,"  she  continued, 
when  he  did  not  speak.  "  We  can  only  hear  the 
music  of  their  voices." 

She  had  risen  to  draw  the  curtains  away  from 
the  window.  For  a  moment  she  stood  so  close 
to  him  that  it  was  in  his  heart  to  take  her  in  his 
arms. 

185 


1 86  THE  TENTH  COMMANDMENT 

The  laughter  of  the  children  floated  on  the  air 
again.  It  broke  the  silence,  which  was  deathlike 
in  its  stillness.  Edythe  looked  up  at  him  again. 
"You  surely  hear  them  now,"  she  said. 

He  turned  and  faced  her. 

"  You  know  that  my  thoughts  were  with  you," 
he  said.  He  stood  beside  her  now  with  his  hand 
on  the  back  of  her  chair. 

"  I  never  thought  that  our  friendship  would  lead 
to  this,"  Edythe  said  after  a  moment.  There  was 
a  tremor  in  her  voice  as  she  spoke. 

"  I  knew  it  would,"  Mr.  Courtney  said  calmly. 
"  I  felt  when  I  met  you  that  we  were  put  here 
for  each  other,  and  separated  by  circumstance." 

"  Then  why  did  you  come  here,  knowing  as  you 
did  that  I  was  not  free  ?  " 

"God  knows  I  couldn't  help  it,"  the  young 
clergyman  replied.  He  rose  again  and  went  to 
the  window.  He  stood  there  for  a  moment  as  if 
reflecting  upon  what  he  had  said,  then  he  added, 
"  I  cannot  believe  but  that  you  knew  that  I  loved 
you;  but  if  you  did  not  know  it,  you  shall  know  it 
now,  because  I  do — because  I  love  you." 

Edythe  glanced  up  at  him,  and  he  noticed  that 
her  eyes  were  filled  with  tears. 

"What   would   the    world   say   if    this    should 


THE   DIE   HAS   BEEN   CAST  187 

reach  its  ears  ? "  she  said.  "  I  do  not  care  for  my- 
self, but  for  my  children  and  for  you.  You  had 
no  right  to  speak  to  me  as  you  have."  As  he 
looked  at  her,  he  saw  that  her  mouth  was  trem- 
bling. She  turned  her  face  away  from  him  as  he 
sat  down  beside  her. 

"I  understand  you,"  he  said. 

"That  I  am  not  free?" 

"  In  name  only,"  he  replied.  "  As  for  the 
world,  it  matters  not  as  far  as  I  am  concerned 
what  it  has  to  say.  It  is  a  cruel  world  at  its 
best." 

"  But  it  is  the  only  world  we  know  anything 
of,"  said  Edythe,  sadly. 

"  Not  the  only  one,"  said  Mr.  Courtney, 
earnestly. 

"  The  other  is  but  a  promised  land,"  said 
Edythe.  "As  you  know,  I  believe  in  nothing 
beyond  this  one.  Through  death  we  pass  into 
utter  oblivion." 

Mr.  Courtney  turned  pale  at  her  words.  He 
rose  and  steadied  himself  against  the  back  of  a 
chair.  He  tried  to  speak,  but  his  voice  failed 
him.  She  saw  that  what  she  had  said  had 
shocked  and  pained  him.  Something  in  her 
heart  was  trying  to  murmur,  "  Forgive  me,"  but 


1 88  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

she  held  back  the  words,  and  they  never  were 
spoken.  For  several  moments  neither  of  them 
spoke. 

"  If  you  are  going  away  as  you  say,"  Edythe 
said,  breaking  the  silence,  "it  may  be  that  we 
shall  never  see  each  other  again." 

Mr.  Courtney  turned  and  faced  her.  He 
noticed  there  was  no  tremor  in  her  voice,  and 
that  she  spoke  bravely.  If  she  cared,  no  one 
was  the  wiser.  The  woman  had  experienced 
despair  before.  The  man  was  less  calm,  for  he 
was  learning  for  the  first  time  what  it  meant. 
Something  told  him  to  go.  He  moved  away 
from  her. 

On  reaching  the  door  he  hesitated.  His  emo- 
tion seemed  to  be  depriving  him  of  the  free  use 
of  his  faculties.  He  stood  there  for  a  moment, 
then  he  said,  "  You  will  say  good-by,  if  we  are 
never  to  see  each  other  again." 

Edythe  noticed  that  his  voice  was  trembling. 
She  turned  toward  him.  She  saw  then  the  pite- 
ous smile  on  his  face.  She  held  out  her  hand  to 
him  to  say  good-by,  and  instead  of  passing  out, 
he  closed  the  door  and  went  back  to  her. 

"  You  do  not  mean  that  this  is  the  end,"  he 
said ;  "  that  some  day  the  barriers  will  not  be 


THE   DIE   HAS   BEEN   CAST  189 

broken  down,  and  I  can  come  back  and  claim 
you  ? "  When  she  did  not  answer,  he  continued, 
"  Just  tell  me  this  before  I  go,  that  if  the  time 
ever  comes,  you  will  send  for  me." 

"You  must  go  away  and  never  think  of  me 
again,"  she  replied,  "  or  of  this.  It  should  never 
have  happened,  but  since  it  has  —  " 

"  I  am  glad  that  I  have  told  you,"  Mr.  Courtney 
said.  "  It  was  God's  will  that  you  should  know 
of  my  love  for  you.  In  spite  of  the  barriers  that 
divide  us,  we  were  put  here  for  each  other. 
Whom  God  joins,  let  no  man  put  asunder." 

"  But  God  never  intended  us  for  each  other," 
Edythe  said  firmly.  She  had  turned  away  from 
him  and  was  standing  face  to  the  window,  yet  she 
was  not  looking  out.  "We  are  of  two  different 
natures,"  she  continued ;  "  our  work  lies  in  two 
opposite  directions.  Our  faith  differs  still  more 
widely." 

"That  would  make  no  difference  to  me,"  said 
Mr.  Courtney,  "if  you  cared  for  me."  For  that 
moment  he  thought  he  understood  her,  that  she 
cared  for  him  and  was  steeling  her  heart  against 
him  ;  that  because  she  was  a  good  woman  she  was 
fighting  down  the  love  that  otherwise  she  would 
have  given  him.  He  was  a  strong  man,  physi- 


190  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

cally  and  mentally.  His  love  for  Edythe  had 
taken  possession  of  him,  body  and  soul.  As  Dr. 
Mcllvaine  had  so  often  repeated  in  his  presence, 
"No  man  is  invincible."  —  "What  if  the  world 
should  know  ? "  he  thought  as  he  stood  there. 
He  would  face  the  consequences.  If  he  could 
perform  but  one  duty,  it  should  be  to  her  and  her 
always,  and  so  he  told  her ;  and  though  she  heard 
him,  she  was  silent. 

"You  must  not  forget,"  she  said,  perhaps  sadly, 
"  when  you  feel  that  I  could  make  up  the  loss  and 
the  good  of  your  great  work,  that  some  years  ago 
another  man  loved  me."  She  passed  her  hand 
over  her  eyes,  as  if  to  wipe  out  a  vision  that  was 
painful  to  her.  "  I  did  not  care  for  him,  and  he 
knew  it;  but  we  were  married."  There  was  a 
strange  thrill  in  her  voice  as  she  spoke.  "  I  did 
not  know  then  what  love  was,  I  only  learned  after 
I  ruined  his  life  that  it  is  something  above  mere 
affection,  interest,  and  pity." 

"  But  you  know  now  ?  "  said  Rodgers. 

A  faint  colour  crept  into  her  pale  face,  but  she 
did  not  answer  him.  We  do  not  know  of  what  she 
was  thinking.  The  greatest  sacrifices  are  those 
that  the  world  never  hears  of,  or  knows  of. 
There  have  been  other  crucifixions  since  the  one 


THE   DIE   HAS   BEEN   CAST  191 

at  Calvary,  where  the  wounds  were  deep,  and 
where  the  print  of  the  nails  were  ever  fresh ;  but 
death  does  not  always  come  for  those  who  wait 
him,  but  rather  for  those  who  dread  him ;  and  if 
he  comes  not,  shall  we  go  to  the  highway  and 
seek  him?  Poor  children  of  destiny,  playthings 
of  fortune,  good  and  ill,  victims  of  circumstance, 
like  so  many  wash-ups  from  a  shipwreck,  cast 
ashore,  helpless  —  at  the  world's  mercy.  A  great 
love  brings  great  peace  with  it,  and  in  her  heart 
Edythe  became  conscious  of  the  wonderful  peace 
that  had  come  over  her.  She  knew  that  Mr. 
Courtney  was  a  good  man  through  and  through. 
In  his  presence  she  began  to  feel  that  there  was 
a  life  after  this  one  after  all.  It  was  his  mission 
in  life  to  bring  the  doubter,  the  sinner,  those  such 
as  she  who  would  stray,  to  the  haven  where  they 
would  be,  yet  he  had  offered  up  his  work,  if 
demanded  of  him,  because  of  his  love  for  her. 
His  sacrifice  would  be  a  loss  to  the  world ;  hers, 
no  one  would  know  of  but  herself.  He  did  not 
realize  when  he  stood  there  before  her,  looking  at 
her  with  his  grave  eyes,  that  what  she  was  saying 
was  cutting  into  her  heart  like  a  knife,  that  she 
was  proud  of  him  —  fond  of  him,  if  the  truth  was 
known.  He  did  not  know  that  she  was  giving 


192  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

him  up  because  she  was  too  unselfish,  too  strong 
to  see  him  sacrifice  his  life  because  of  her. 

Yet  they  say  the  man  is  stronger  than  the 
woman.  There  are  many  sayings,  and  as  many 
sides  to  each  of  them.  This  time  the  woman 
proved  the  exception,  if  you  would  call  it  so. 
But  Rodgers  Courtney  never  knew  it.  She  had 
told  him  that  his  duty  was  to  go  on  with  his  work 
and  to  think  of  her  no  more.  He  did  not  know 
that  the  coldness  in  her  voice  was  hiding  a  wealth 
of  love  and  tenderness.  As  he  watched  her,  he 
wondered  how  he  was  ever  going  to  go  on  living 
without  seeing  her.  It  is  after  the  burial  that  we 
realize  the  gap  death  has  made.  She  was  a  beau- 
tiful woman.  It  seemed  to  him  as  he  looked  at 
her  that  she  was  more  beautiful  to-day  than  he 
had  ever  seen  her.  Yet  the  future  would  hold  no 
sight  of  her ;  but  he  would  thank  God  for  having 
known  and  loved  her  in  the  past.  The  past, 
though  past,  is  ofttimes  dearer  and  nearer  to  us 
than  the  present  can  ever  be,  and  because  of  it  we 
are  able  to  face  the  future  with  hope  and  resig- 
nation. 

Mr.  Courtney  was  going  now.  He  held  out 
his  hand  again  to  say  good-by.  She  took  it  hesi- 
tatingly. 


THE   DIE   HAS   BEEN   CAST  193 

"  If  at  any  time  you  recall  this  last  meeting," 
Mr.  Courtney  said  with  feeling,  "think  of  me 
kindly  and  not  with  reproach.  Woman  was  made 
nearer  to  the  likeness  and  perfection  of  God  than 
man;  she  is  without  his  many  weaknesses,  his 
many  failings ;  for  that  reason,  she  should  be  for- 
bearing, forgiving." 

Edythe  laughed  nervously.  "You  forget  that 
I  am  not  angry  with  you,"  she  said,  though  she 
found  it  hard  to  say  it.  "  I  shall  remember  you 
always,  and  ever  kindly,  and  when  you  come  back 
to  your  work  again,  which  you  will  do  later,  I 
want  you  to  renew  the  friendship  with  us  all,  — 
the  dear  Signer,  Madame  Marie,  little  Clare,  and 
Consuelo.  They  will  never  know  why  you  went 
away,  and  they  will  talk  of  you  and  miss  you. 
I  don't  know  what  I  can  tell  Consuelo  that 
will  ever  comfort  her.  Her  one  thought  is  of 
you." 

"Perhaps  I  may  write  to  her,"  Mr.  Courtney 
said  quietly.  "  I  am  very  fond  of  her.  She  has 
a  strangely  warm  place  in  my  heart." 

"  Then  I  shall  tell  her  that  you  will  write  ? " 

"  No,  for  I  may  not.  I  am  like  a  captain  going 
to  sea  with  sealed  orders  —  I  only  know  that  I  am 
going  away." 


194  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

"  And  you  will  not  tell  me  when  you  are  coming 
back  ? "  She  realized  now  that  he  was  going, 
what  she  was  giving  up,  what  a  sacrifice  she  had 
made.  And  in  one  of  his  weakest  children,  God 
witnessed  the  strength  of  a  mighty  soldier. 

Some  one  was  ringing  at  the  door  of  the  studio. 

"  Good-by  and  God  bless  you,"  said  Mr. 
Courtney,  as  he  took  both  of  her  hands  in  his, 
and  kissed  them. 

"And  you  will  not  say  when  you  will  come 
back?" 

Their  eyes  met  for  a  brief  moment.  "When- 
ever the  barriers  are  removed  and  you  send  for 
me,  I  will  come,"  he  said,  "by  the  grace  of  God." 

Mr.  Courtney  opened  the  door.  It  was  Mrs. 
Merrall,  Sr.,  who  was  waiting.  Though  surprise 
was  pictured  in  her  face  as  she  recognized  him, 
she  shook  hands  cordially  with  him  as  she  made 
some  allusion  to  his  recovery,  and  then,  as  Edythe 
went  forward,  she  extended  her  hand  to  her,  and 
they  crossed  the  threshold  of  the  studio  together. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

HOUSES   OF  CARDS 

IT  was  Mrs.  Merrall,  Sr.'s  first  visit  to  the 
studio  of  the  Barattonis.  That  she  had  heard  of 
it,  we  will  assume;  and  it  is  to  be  conjectured  that 
she  found  it  a  very  different  place  from  that  which 
her  imagination  had  always  pictured  it. 

That  there  are  several  classes  of  Bohemians,  and 
that  they  are  not  all  going  the  pace  that  kills,  Mrs. 
Merrall,  Sr.,  had  never  once  considered.  The 
word  "Bohemian"  in  itself  conjured  up  to  her 
eyes  a  multitude  of  unpardonable  sins,  a  gallery  in 
truth  of  most  curious  pictures.  That  her  impres- 
sions of  the  studio  were  more  favourable  than  she 
expected  they  would  be,  we  suppose,  since  she 
walked  about  it  several  times  before  she  was  will- 
ing to  be  seated. 

She  was  not  a  little  interested  in  the  portrait  of 
Madame  Marie.  She  had  seen  her  on  the  boards 
several  times,  she  remarked  to  Edythe,  as  she 
studied  it  through  her  elaborately  carved  shell 


196  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

lorgnette,  and  was  therefore  interested.  She 
looked  somewhat  incredulous  at  hearing  that  since 
she  retired,  it  had  not  been  to  some  home  for  in- 
firm females,  and  that  she  was  enjoying  fewer 
years  and  more  wealth  than  herself,  though  the 
latter  was  but  a  mental  calculation,  since  Edythe 
only  informed  her  that  she  was  not  dependent  as 
yet  on  either  crutches  or  charity.  To  this  remark 
Mrs.  Merrall  merely  assented  by  a  slight  raising 
of  her  eyebrows  as  she  passed  on  to  other  pictures. 

She  paused  next  at  a  little  painting  of  Ghleska. 
It  was  a  side  view,  and  gave  one  a  better  impres- 
sion of  his  hair  than  of  his  features.  It  was  a 
clever  picture,  painted  by  some  master  of  the 
brush,  although  Mrs.  Merrall,  Sr.,  characterized 
it  as  a  "clever  hair  advertisement."  She  again 
appeared  incredulous  when  Edythe  told  her  that 
he  was  not  entirely  unknown.  She  had  "  never 
heard  of  him,"  and  that  to  her  mind  was  a  suffi- 
cient reason  for  excluding  him  from  the  ranks  of 
the  recognized. 

The  elder  Mrs.  Merrall  always  gave  one  the 
impression  that  she  was  weighing  everything  with 
several  ounces  of  doubt.  She  had  heard  of  Lon- 
spetti,  but  she  was  not  interested  in  the  several 
pictures  of  him  that  Dorothy  had  made. 


HOUSES   OF  CARDS  197 

"I  was  tempted  to  go  and  hear  him  once," 
she  said.  Edythe  wondered  if  she  had  forgotten 
that  she  was  the  "  tempter "  on  this  evidently 
memorable  occasion.  "  But  the  music  was  too 
uncanny  for  one  of  my  musical  education  to 
fancy." 

There  was  a  series  of  coloured  sketches  by  some 
maker  of  caricatures  that  pleased  her,  also  one  of 
the  earlier  pictures  of  Millais.  To  other  minds 
than  hers  there  was  much  else  in  the  long  studio 
to  attract  and  interest  one  besides  the  pictures ;  the 
whole  effect  of  rugs,  draperies,  and  cushions  was 
harmonious  to  an  extreme.  It  is  possible  that 
Mrs.  Merrall  came  under  the  spell  of  the  studio's 
delightful  influence,  for  she  now  appeared  a  little 
less  formidable  than  when  she  had  entered. 

"You  have  a  comfortable  home  here,"  she  said, 
when  she  was  at  last  seated.  Edythe  smiled.  A 
bird  called  to  another  bird  across  the  studio  and 
it  attracted  Mrs.  Merrall's  attention  for  the  mo- 
ment. 

"  Is  it  possible  that  that  is  Vic  ? "  she  inquired, 
pointing  to  the  nearest  bird  with  her  chiffon 
parasol. 

"  It  certainly  is  the  same  dear  bird,"  Edythe  re- 
plied, wondering  what  comment  was  to  be  made  on 


198  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

Vic's  prolonged  stay  in  the  land  of  earth's  sun- 
shine. 

"  She  sings  well,"  Mrs.  Merrall  continued,  "for 
such  an  old  bird.  I  remember  the  day  Geoffrey 
sent  her  home  —  the  day  Douglas  was  born,  and 
she  sings  still  ?  " 

"  As  well  as  ever,"  said  Edythe  with  a  smile  ; 
"but  they  tell  me  that  she  never  sings  when  I'm 
out." 

Mrs.  Merrall,  Sr.,  again  looked  incredulous. 
"  As  if  an  atom  like  a  bird  would  know  the  dif- 
ference," she  said.  "  If  memory  serves  me  right, 
I  used  to  hear  her  singing  very  merrily  up  in  your 
studio  when  I  know  you  were  not  there.  She  may 
have  changed,  though,  since  then,"  Mrs.  Merrall 
consented  to  allow. 

Edythe  smiled  again.  "Very  likely,"  was  all 
she  said. 

She  knew  from  many  years  of  experience  that  it 
was  as  useless  arguing  with  Mrs.  Merrall,  Sr.,  as 
carrying  on  a  debate  with  the  cold,  white  moon. 
There  had  been  occasions  when  it  had  been  neces- 
sary to  discuss  some  things  at  length  with  her,  but 
as  she  looked  at  her  seated  before  her  in  all  the 
hauteur  and  magnificence  of  which  she  was  a  born 
mistress,  she  was  inwardly  thankful  that  even 


HOUSES  OF  CARDS  199 

those  things  had  come  to  an  end.  She  looked  up 
once  to  find  Mrs.  Merrall  looking  at  her,  curiously 
or  kindly,  she  couldn't  tell  which. 

"  I  am  sure  you  are  wondering  what  has  brought 
me  here  ?  "  said  the  elder  woman.  She  studied  a 
ruffle  of  her  parasol  as  she  spoke.  "  I  know  I  owe 
you  an  apology  for  so  intruding  upon  you."  She 
paused  as  if  for  a  reply.  Edythe  noticed  that 
making  an  apology  was  manifestly  disagreeable  to 
her. 

"  I  am  sorry  that  you  look  at  it  in  that  light," 
Edythe  said  kindly.  "  You  have  been  invited  here 
so  often." 

Mrs.  Men-all's  nostrils  dilated  a  little.  To  be 
treated  as  an  equal  in  Bohemia  was  the  thought 
that  occurred  to  her,  a  woman  of  her  preeminence. 
She  remembered  that  one  of  her  ancestors  was  one 
of  the  Signers,  and  still  another,  one  of  the  great- 
est generals  American  history  has  record  of. 
Though  her  son  had  been  one  of  the  lions  of  the 
"  Four  Hundred,"  her  name  appeared  only  in  the 
set  that  was  known  exclusively  as  the  "  Knicker- 
bockers." As  Edythe  had  often  heard  her  say, 
"  Money  opens  no  doors  at  the  Knickerbockers'." 
It  was  evident  that  she  was  not  pleased  at  being 
reminded  that  her  visit  was  in  any  way  an  accepted 


200  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

obligation,  but  she  allowed  the  remark  to  pass 
without  comment.  It  was  some  moments  be- 
fore either  of  the  women  spoke  again,  and  it  was 
then  the  elder  woman  who  broke  the  silence. 
"  You  probably  do  not  know  what  my  object  was 
in  coming  here,"  she  said  slowly.  She  paused  for 
Edythe  to  reply,  but  the  younger  woman  only 
smiled  and  waited  for  her  to  continue.  Mrs. 
Merrall,  Sr.,  again  studied  the  structure  of  her 
chiffon  parasol. 

"  It  is  needless  to  say  that  Geoffrey  knows  noth- 
ing of  this  visit."  She  paused.  "  I  shall  be  glad 
if  he  never  hears  of  it,"  she  said. 

"  As  I  have  no  communications  with  Geoffrey,  it 
could  hardly  reach  him  through  me,"  Edythe  said 
calmly.  His  mother  drew  a  sigh  of  relief. 

"  I  thought  of  his  bankers,"  she  said. 

"I  have  had  no  occasion  to  confer  with  them 
since  the  separation.  As  we  have  separate 
accounts,  a  conference  with  them  need  not  touch 
at  all  on  personal  matters."  She  glanced  up  under 
the  scrutiny  of  Mrs.  Merrall's  eyes.  She  felt  that 
she  was  regarding  her  narrowly.  Edythe  resented 
it,  but  was  careful  enough  not  to  sound  the  first 
note  of  war.  Mrs.  Merrall  settled  back  in  her 
chair  again.  "  I  have  come  to  know  what  you  are 


HOUSES   OF  CARDS  2OI 

going  to  do  about  Geoffrey  and  the  children.  It 
is  a  painful  subject,  though  not  as  painful  to  you  as 
to  me.  You  will  feel  bitter  toward  me  for  broach- 
ing it." 

"Not  at  all,"  interrupted  Edythe.  "I  beg  of 
you  to  continue."  There  was  decided  enmity  in 
the  tone,  and  Mrs.  Merrall  noticed  it. 

"  You  do  not  understand  me,"  she  said  quickly, 
"that  a  mother's  interest  in  her  son's  welfare  is 
different  from  — 

"  His  wife's,"  said  Edythe. 

She  said  it  bravely,  for  she  saw  that  her 
mother-in-law  was  anxious  if  possible  to  avoid  the 
word. 

"  You  will  not  tell  me,  I  suppose,  if  you  intend 
to  remain  his  wife,  or  let  him  have  his  freedom  ? " 

After  a  few  moments,  Edythe  looked  up.  For 
the  first  time  in  all  the  years  she  had  known  her, 
Mrs.  Merrall  caught  the  great  beauty  of  her  eyes. 
If  she  had  been  angry  with  her,  the  anger  passed. 

"  Is  it  Geoffrey's  wish  ? "  Edythe  said  at  last, 
slowly. 

Mrs.  Merrall  reflected  a  moment.  "  Since  you 
will  not  return  to  him." 

"You  think,  then,  it  is  his  wish  to  be  free 
again  ? " 


202  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

"I  think  it  would  be  better,"  replied  Mrs. 
Merrall,  avoiding  a  direct  answer  to  her  question. 
"  He  is  a  young  man ;  he  has  his  life  before 
him." 

"  And  the  children  have  theirs."  There  was  a 
tone  of  sadness  in  her  voice.  Mrs.  Merrall 
noticed,  too,  that  her  face  grew  very  white  as  she 
spoke  of  them.  She  buried  her  face  in  her  hands. 
"  The  children,"  she  said  again  quietly,  "  I  had  not 
thought  of  them ;  I  mean  that  I  might  be  stand- 
ing in  their  light." 

Mrs.  Merrall  was  deeply  touched  for  the  mo- 
ment, but  she  gathered  her  will  and  her  senses 
quickly  about  her,  as  a  general  might  his  soldiers, 
and  remained  firm  and  formidable.  There  was 
a  short  silence.  Both  women  were  in  deep 
thought. 

"  It  is  your  wish,"  said  Edythe,  "  that  I  pass  out 
of  the  children's  life  while  they  are  young  and 
will  forget  me,  or  in  remembrance  will  recall  me 
with  a  sense  of  reproach  where  there  should  be 
but  pity  —  to  meet  them  in  after  years  and  to 
feel  that,  I  am  nothing  to  them." 

"You  did  not  think  of  this  when  you  left 
them." 

"  I  went  because  I  could  stand  the  convention- 


HOUSES   OF  CARDS  203 

ality  of  society  no  longer."  Her  eyes  brightened 
strangely  as  she  spoke.  Tears  came  to  them, 
but  she  brushed  them  away.  "  I  could  stand  it 
no  longer,"  she  said  again,  "  the  monotony,  the 
restlessness,  the  insincerity  of  it  all  palled  upon 
me.  People  talk  of  the  false  glamour  of  the 
stage;  it  is  nothing  to  the  gilded  atmosphere  in 
which  modern  society  lives.  It  is  a  ceaseless 
strife  among  the  builders  —  of  houses  of  cards." 

Mrs.  Merrall,  Sr.,  rose  to  go.  She  had  not 
noticed  in  the  painful  agitation  of  the  moment 
that  a  child  had  entered  the  room  in  some  stage 
of  the  conversation,  and  was  standing  at  some 
little  distance  from  her  regarding  her  seriously. 

Edythe  rose  with  her  guest.  She  held  out  her 
hand,  for  she  noticed  that  Mrs.  Merrall  was  about 
to  go,  but  that  lady  ignored  it.  Consuelo  went 
forward  and  opened  the  door  for  her.  Edythe 
saw  that  she  was  going  away  angry  with  her,  and 
she  regretted  it. 

"I  am  sorry,"  she  said,  though  with  colourless 
civility,  as  Mrs.  Merrall  paused  for  a  moment 
on  the  threshold,  "  if  I  have  offended  you ;  it 
was  far  from  intentional." 

Mrs.  Merrall  reflected  a  moment,  and  as  she 
turned  Edythe  thought  she  saw  a  gleam  of 


204  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

friendliness    in    her    face.       She    extended    her 
hand. 

A  moment  later  the  footman  on  the  waiting 
victoria  was  seen  to  assist  a  lady  into  the  carriage, 
but  the  incident  was  of  interest  only  to  the  chil- 
dren gathered  about  it. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

"  He  that  negotiates  between  God  and  man 
Is  God's  ambassador."  —  COWPER. 

THE  next  morning  Rodgers  Courtney  called  at 
the  rectory  and  resigned  his  charge  at  Calvary 
Church. 

"  I  am  giving  it  up  because  I  need  a  rest,"  Mr. 
Courtney  said  after  a  moment's  silence. 

Dr.  Mcllvaine  studied  the  face  of  the  young 
clergyman  long  and  earnestly.  "  You  have  given 
the  matter  thought,  I  hope  ? "  he  said. 

"  Much  thought,"  was  the  reply. 

"  And  you  can  come  to  no  better  decision  ? " 

"  None." 

In  his  surprise  for  the  moment  Dr.  Mcllvaine 
had  forgotten  to  ask  Mr.  Courtney  to  be  seated. 
He  did  so  now,  but  failed  to  notice  that  his  vis- 
itor still  remained  standing.  The  doctor  was  too 
greatly  affected  to  notice  anything.  He  paced 
to  and  fro  the  long  study,  reflecting,  meditating, 

205 


206  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

thinking.  Two  natures  seemed  to  grapple  with 
him  for  possession :  one  the  tenderness  of  the 
man,  the  kindliness,  the  forbearance ;  the  other, 
his  better-known  self,  firm,  unrelenting,  merci- 
less, loveless. 

When  he  looked  at  the  young  man  standing 
at  his  window,  and  saw  and  reflected  upon  the 
whiteness  of  his  face  and  the  frailness  of  the 
figure  that  had  once  been  so  strong,  he  was 
moved  to  be  merciful  with  him,  to  show  sympathy, 
pity,  love,  compassion ;  but  then  when  he  reflected, 
he  could  not 

Mr.  Courtney  was  moving  to  go,  but  Dr. 
Mcllvaine  interrupted  him,  and  Rodgers  noticed 
that  the  doctor's  face  was  twitching  nervously. 

"  I  feared  this  would  be  the  end,"  he  said.  "  I 
prayed  God  to  avert  it  night  and  day ;  but  in 
His  all-wise  judgment  He  has  not  seen  fit  to 
answer  my  prayer." 

Rodgers  Courtney's  lips  were  firmly  set. 
"  Whether  you  are  giving  up  the  church  in  resign- 
ing your  work  here,  I  do  not  know,"  continued 
Dr.  Mcllvaine.  "  Perhaps  it  is  better  that  you 
should,  since  man  cannot  serve  two  masters." 

"You  do  not  understand  me,"  interrupted  Mr. 
Courtney.  "  I  am  giving  up  my  work  here  in 


THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT  2O/ 

order  to  go  abroad  and  rest.  I  need  it,  and  I  can- 
not live  if  I  do  not  have  it.  As  to  my  work,  with 
the  help  and'  grace  of  God  I  shall  live  and  die 
a  clergyman  of  the  Church  of  England." 

"  But  where  the  will  is,  there  must  the  heart  be 
also,"  said  Dr.  Mcllvaine. 

"There  shall  the  heart  be,"  replied  Rodgers 
Courtney. 

"  You  will  promise  me  in  going  away  that  you 
will  put  down  Satan  under  your  feet,  and  never 
mistake  his  calling  blindly  for  God's  ? " 

"I  will,"  was  the  reply,  "with  the  help  of  God." 

Dr.  Mcllvaine  was  touched  with  the  sincerity  of 
the  reply.  "  Then  I  can  let  you  go,"  he  said 
earnestly,  "  knowing  that  all  will  be  well  with 
you,  and  that  some  day  you  will  come  back  wiser, 
stronger,  nobler  for  the  experience  with  the  outer 
world." 

"  There  has  been  no  experience  with  the  outer 
world,  Dr.  Mcllvaine.  I  have  loved,  and  I  have 
suffered  for  it,  but  in  that  there  is  no  sin." 

"Then  we  look  at  it  differently,"  said  Dr.  Mc- 
llvaine. "  As  your  spiritual  head  and  adviser,  I 
must  warn  you  that  the  guises  of  the  devil  are 
many ;  they  come  in  the  form  of  love,  duty,  even 
help  and  comfort.  We  must  ever  be  prepared  for 


208  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

him.  Satan  is  fighting  for  every  individual  soul  on 
the  earth  —  yours  and  mine.  He  never  gives  up 
hope,  he  is  adding  to  his  army  tenfold  every  day. 
There  are  millions  who  seek  to  walk  in  his  ranks ; 
for  those  there  is  no  fighting  for  possession.  It 
is  only  for  the  souls  of  righteous  men  that  Satan 
is  willing  and  ever  ready  to  fight.  When  I  look 
about  me  sometimes,  I  wonder  that  God  does  not 
come  in  all  His  glory  and  put  an  end  to  the  world, 
—  put  an  end  before  heresy  has  trodden  down  the 
faith  of  our  fathers." 

"  It  would  be  better  so,  no  doubt,"  said  the 
younger  man,  "  though  as  far  as  the  individual  is 
concerned,  the  sleep  of  death  is  in  reality  the  end 
of  the  world  to  him." 

"  Death  alone  does  not  break  the  link,"  said 
Dr.  Mcllvaine,  "and  though  we  have  passed  on  to 
another  state,  we  are  still  bound  to  the  world  until 
the  judgment,  when  the  earth  will  give  up  its  dead 
forever." 

"  We  differ,  then,"  said  Mr.  Courtney.  "  It  is 
my  belief  that  those  who  die  pass  to  the  kingdom 
of  God  and  to  His  presence,  and  are  judged." 

"  And  it  has  always  been  my  belief,  my  theory," 
interrupted  Dr.  Mcllvaine,  "that  death  takes  us 
to  a  land  where  Christ  is  better  understood,  loved, 


THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT  209 

and  awaited,  as  to  a  mansion  where  the  host  is 
expected,  where  we  shall  be  near  Him,  and  yet 
not  with  Him.  I  believe  it  is  at  the  general  res- 
urrection that  all  souls  will  see  Him  face  to  face. 
In  that  transient  state,  man  will  develop,  the  weak 
will  become  strong,  the  savage  civilized,  the  old 
young,  the  child  will  have  matured,  the  sinner 
will  have  had  time  for  repentance.  The  word 
'death'  merely  means  the  separation  of  the  soul 
from  the  body,  the  progress  onward  of  the  spirit." 

"If  we  shall  know  in  that  new  state  some  of  the 
reasons  for  our  troubled  life  here,  it  will  come  as  a 
comfort,  though  it  will  come  late." 

Moved  by  the  sadness  of  Mr.  Courtney's  words, 
Dr.  Mcllvaine  looked  him  full  in  the  face.  "  As 
I  look  into  your  life,"  said  the  doctor,  "  I  can  see 
nothing  but  the  promise  and  the  fulfilment  of 
great  and  good  things."  He  hesitated  a  moment, 
then  he  said :  "  It  is  men  like  you  that  the  world 
would  trip;  if  I  may  still  better  express  my 
thoughts,  that  the  world  would  scar.  It  is  those 
who  have  been  tempted  sorely  and  deeply,  and 
have  trodden  down  the  tempter,  that  may  be  called 
brave  and  are  fit  for  His  service.  God  does  not 
give  a  weak  man  a  strong  man's  work  to  do.  In 
our  temptation  we  must  remember  that  He  gave 


210  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

His  only  begotten  and  well-beloved  son  to  the 
world  for  man's  salvation.  He  allowed  Him  to  be 
tempted,  betrayed,  crucified.  He  gave  His  only 
son  that  the  world  might  be  saved  from  sin ;  and 
ever  since  the  expulsion  of  Adam  and  Eve  from 
the  garden,  the  will  of  the  Father  has  been 
defiled,  forgotten,  debased.  In  this  race  for  indi- 
vidual gain,  in  this  self-centred  existence,  in  this 
life  of  fraud  and  hypocrisy,  we  forget  that  God's 
punishment  must  come.  The  sin  which  is  the 
darkness  through  which  the  world  is  passing  may 
be  the  last  hour  before  the  dawn,  when  the  hearts 
of  all  men  shall  be  made  known,  when  even  the 
mystery  and  secrets  of  the  stars  will  be  disclosed. 
Only  our  own  hearts  can  say  whether  He  will 
come  to  find  us  wanting." 

Though  Dr.  Mcllvaine  was  a  man  of  a  hard 
nature,  merciless  in  its  intensity,  yet  in  his  words 
that  day  he  revealed  the  sympathetic  side  of  his 
nature,  and  in  his  eyes  there  shone  through  the 
fearlessness  and  the  coldness  of  the  gaze  a  love 
for  the  young  clergyman  which  nearer  approached 
adoration.  Perhaps  if  he  had  used  the  heart  as 
a  means  to  stay  him,  he  might  have  succeeded. 
Mr.  Courtney  was  in  dire  need  of  love  and  sym- 
pathy ;  but  it  is  hard  sometimes  to  make  a  confes~ 


THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT  211 

sion,  lest  it  fail.  It  is  so  hard  to  say  "  I  love 
you,"  especially  hard  for  one  man  to  say  to 
another. 

The  men  sat  in  silence  for  some  little  time,  then 
Mr.  Courtney  spoke :  "  I  appreciate  more  than 
you  will  ever  know  your  interest  in  me,"  he  said. 
"  You  are  not  a  man  to  give  it  lightly  or  freely, 
and  I  value  it  the  more.  You  have  spoken  to  me 
for  my  own  good,  and  I  shall  not  forget  it.  What 
is  not  right  nor  well  for  me  to  do  I  have  decided 
to  give  up,  though  it  comes  hard.  I  have  found 
how  true  it  is  that  man  advances  but  in  spiral 
lines  and  through  trials  of  many  kinds." 

"  That  through  the  fire  we  may  become  perfect," 
said  Dr.  Mcllvaine. 

Mr.  Courtney  had  risen  to  go.  He  held  out  his 
hand,  and  Dr.  Mcllvaine  took  it  and  held  it  in  both 
of  his,  long,  even  tenderly. 

"  If  you  are  to  sail  to-morrow,  I  suppose  that 
this  is  the  parting  until  the  meeting,"  he  said 
gravely,  "which  I  pray  may  not  be  long  in 
coming." 

Mr.  Courtney's  lips  moved  to  speak,  but  the 
words  would  not  come. 

"  In  the  meanwhile  God  be  with  you  always.  I 
feel  as  if  I  was  doing  wrong  in  letting  you  go ;  but 


212  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

you  know  best  what  is  needful  for  the  spirit.  If 
something  has  come  into  your  life  which  you  must 
and  cannot  overthrow  without  going  away,  you  are 
right,  my  son,  in  doing  so,  but  remember  always 
there  is  the  Judas  in  all  of  us,  and  he  will  betray 
us  with  a  kiss  when  he  can  —  and  so  god-speed." 

Rodgers  Courtney  was  wondering  if  Dr.  Mcll- 
vaine  could  know  why  he  was  going.  For  a  mo- 
ment he  thought  of  asking  him,  then  he  thought, 
"  He  will  only  despise  me  for  it,  for  I  am  weak  and 
he  is  strong." 

A  moment  later  and  he  had  gone.  Dr.  Mc- 
Ilvaine  stood  looking  after  the  retreating  figure 
until  it  had  passed  out  of  his  sight,  then  he  sat 
down  and  reflected,  for  he  was  sorely  troubled. 
"  I  should  have  kept  him  here,"  he  said.  "  In  his 
work  he  would  have  forgotten  what  he  is  going 
away  to  forget  —  or  to  remember."  That  was  the 
question  that  troubled  Dr.  Mcllvaine  not  a  little. 
With  no  work  in  hand,  nothing  to  do  but  to  think, 
to  walk  sometimes  and  reflect,  would  not  the  mind, 
unconsciously  perhaps,  remember,  and  in  remem- 
brance, regret  ?  It  is  easier  to  think  of  sacrifices 
than  to  make  them.  Like  resolutions,  they  are 
nobler  in  thought  than  we  make  them  in  the  deed. 
In  going  away,  would  he  forget  ?  As  he  thought 


THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT  213 

it  out  he  felt  that  he  had  not  spoken  as  he  should. 
In  his  effort  to  spare  the  young  man  pain  and 
humiliation  he  had  for  the  time  being  forgotten 
another  man  who  had  come  to  him  only  the  week 
before  —  a  man  who  had  given  up  much  and  had 
suffered  in  silence.  As  Dr.  Mcllvaine  recalled 
that  visit,  the  thought  came  to  him  that  he  was  the 
one  to  be  pitied,  not  Mr.  Courtney.  Why  had  his 
thoughts  so  deserted  him  when  he  needed  them 
most,  he  wondered.  There  was  so  much  he  should 
have  told  Mr.  Courtney.  He  would  tell  him  now. 
Though  it  came  as  an  afterthought,  it  was  not  too 
late.  If  he  only  knew  what  I  know,  he  would  find 
it  easier  to  forget.  It  is  my  duty  to  tell  him,  lest 
the  world  tempt  him  again.  If  he  knew,  it  might 
be  the  means  of  saving  his  soul.  He  is  young,  the 
world  will  not  let  him  forget  her.  Music,  perhaps, 
the  happiness  of  others  about  him,  his  own  loneli- 
ness, the  memory  of  a  face,  something  would  bring 
it  back  to  him.  We  are  linked  to  the  past,  for  it 
has  been  our  possession.  The  future  is  but  a  pos- 
sible inheritance.  The  charm  and  the  fascination 
of  the  life  he  is  putting  aside  will  appeal  to  him 
again.  It  will  return  in  another  light.  He  is 
young,  he  repeated  to  himself  over  and  over.  Self 
will  strive  to  win. 


214  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

As  he  went  out  and  closed  the  door  it  seemed 
to  him  that  his  reason  was  becoming  paralyzed. 
Though  he  had  expected  the  blow  to  ultimately 
fall  upon  him,  now  that  it  had  come,  it  had  come 
as  a  shock.  "He  must  stand  by  his  work,"  he 
thought.  "If  rumours  crop  up,  and  the  debt  for 
the  past  must  be  paid,  I  will  stand  by  him.  But 
he  must  not  go  away.  If  he  only  knew  what  I 
know,"  thought  Dr.  Mcllvaine,  "and  he  shall 
know  it  before  it  is  too  late." 

When  he  reached  Mr.  Courtney's  home  he  was 
told  that  he  had  left  there  early  that  morning  and 
would  not  return.  In  the  hall  Dr.  Mcllvaine 
could  see  the  library  table  he  knew  so  well  stand- 
ing there,  his  bookcases  were  beside  it,  a  chest  of 
books,  his  easy  chair.  He  was  told  they  were  to 
be  put  in  storage.  It  seemed  to  Dr.  Mcllvaine  as 
he  saw  them  that  they  looked  like  frightened,  woe- 
begone children  huddled  together,  who  knew  not 
why  they  had  been  deserted.  Something  seemed 
to  tell  him  that  Rodgers  Courtney  was  not  coming 
back  at  present.  He  returned  through  the  Park 
on  his  way  home.  In  his  vest  pocket  he  could 
feel  the  miniature  that  Mr.  Merrall  had  left  with 
him  on  that  memorable  visit  the  week  before,  with 
the  request  that  it  be  returned  to  its  owner.  Dr. 


THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT  215 

Mcllvaine  took  it  out  to  look  at  it,  but  the  face  was 
still  hidden  in  the  folds  of  lavender  silk,  as  Dr. 
Elliott  had  found  it. 

And  Destiny  continued  with  her  laws  and  de- 
sires, despite  man's  interference. 


CHAPTER   XXVII 
MR.   COURTNEY   IN   LONDON 

WHEN  Mr.  Courtney  reached  London,  he 
sought  out  a  church  and  went  there  to  find 
peace  for  his  soul.  He  felt  like  a  man  who  had 
cut  adrift  from  the  world  and  was  even  at  vari- 
ance with  God.  In  the  shadow  of  the  crucifix 
he  could  find  rest.  Outside  he  could  hear  the 
ever  ceaseless  ebb  of  the  world,  luring  its  victims 
on,  ever  vain,  hypocritical,  wicked,  yet  he  had 
given  up  his  work  for  God  because  of  it.  As  he 
knelt  there,  the  thought  came  to  him  of  how  the 
tempter,  which  is  ever  seeking  us,  had  sought  him 
and  found  him.  He  remembered,  though  not 
for  the  first  time,  how  with  wide-open  eyes  he 
had  walked  into  the  snare  set  by  the  fowler. 

The  service  was  over  and  the  church  almost 
empty  before  Mr.  Courtney  realized  it.  He  then 
came  to  himself,  that  he  was  alone  and  unknown 
in  London.  For  the  moment  as  he  stood  there 
it  occurred  to  him  to  introduce  himself  to  one 
of  the  priests  who  were  still  in  the  chancel. 

216 


MR.   COURTNEY  IN   LONDON  217 

They  would  be  interested  in  him,  he  thought, 
he  was  one  of  them.  He  had  forgotten  for  the 
moment  why  he  was  in  London.  Another 
moment  and  he  had  passed  out  of  the  church. 

As  he  passed  along  the  crowded  thorough- 
fare on  his  way  to  his  lodgings,  though  he  was 
trying  to  forget  the  past  like  a  great  trouble 
that  had  threatened  to  destroy  him,  his  mind 
reverted  to  America.  It  was  the  first  time  he 
had  allowed  himself  to  think  of  Edythe  since 
they  had  parted.  He  had  resolved  to  go  away 
and  forget  her;  but  it  is  not  always  possible  to 
forget  those  we  love,  and  so  he  found  it.  She 
had  proved  the  stronger  of  the  two.  It  was  her 
will  that  had  saved  him  from  a  worse  fate  than  he 
would  have  chosen.  He  had  promised  her  that  he 
would  go  away  and  forget  her.  When  he  made 
the  promise,  he  had  forgotten  what  it  meant. 
Did  not  some  one  write,  but  he  knew  not  who, 
"  Absence  makes  the  heart  grow  fonder." 

In  his  soul  he  knew  that  she  had  conquered, 
but  he  was  paying  the  price.  There  are  no 
victories  ever  won  without  a  sacrifice,  without 
some  price  is  paid.  If  we  could  read  some 
living  and  dead  hearts,  we  should  know  this 
better. 


2l8  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

And  as  he  walked  along  the  thought  came 
to  him,  "Can  this  be  God's  way  of  testing  the 
weak  places  in  my  armour  that  He  may 
strengthen  them  ?  "  A  flush  rose  to  his  face  as 
the  thought  occurred  to  him ;  but  then  he  grew 
strong  again  for  he  remembered  that  he  had 
overthrown  the  tempter  forever,  if  such  love 
must  be  called,  when  he  left  America  —  and 
Edythe.  The  very  thought  of  her  name  breath- 
ing from  the  secret  chambers  of  his  heart  rose 
and  troubled  him.  After  all,  it  was  her  victory, 
not  his,  this  complete  renunciation  of  soul  over 
self.  It  was  her  hands  that  had  lifted  the  cross 
he  had  laid  aside,  placed  it  in  his  arms  again, 
and  had  bidden  him  take  up  his  work  anew. 
Conquered,  but  at  what  a  cost  to  both  ? 

He  had  reached  his  rooms  now,  and  he  stole 
in  like  a  thief  frightened  at  what  he  knew  not, 
unless  it  had  been  the  reproach  of  his  conscience 
over  the  weakness  of  the  man.  But  man,  likened 
as  he  is  to  God,  is  not  strong.  He  is  only  made 
after  His  image  like  a  clay  cast,  modelled  after 
the  finished  marble. 

But  why  was  he  thinking  of  Edythe,  he  won- 
dered, as  he  stood  at  his  window  and  watched 
the  lights  of  old  London.  He  had  gone  away 


MR.   COURTNEY  IN   LONDON  219 

to  forget  her.  But  only  God  and  he  knew  that 
he  was  breaking  his  word,  his  promise  —  and 
God  is  ever  merciful,  he  thought.  Sometime  he 
knew  he  must  return  to  his  work  again  and  live 
for  the  future  with  no  thought  of  the  past. 
When  he  did  return  he  must  work  with  no  other 
thought  than  his  duty  toward  God.  He  must 
put  his  heart  and  soul  into  it.  It  would  be  a 
struggle  at  first;  but  if  his  work  would  go  on, 
love  must  be  crucified.  A  remembrance  came 
to  him  of  the  time  when  he  planned  a  future  with 
Edythe  —  when  she  would  be  free,  and  his.  He 
remembered  how  he  had  pictured  their  life  to- 
gether. And  now  she  had  passed  from  it  for- 
ever. Perhaps  it  would  be  better,  he  reasoned, 
if  he  returned  to  his  work  at  once.  It  would 
be  harder  as  the  weeks,  perhaps  months,  passed. 
Time  widens  breaches  sometimes  that  even  life 
cannot  heal.  He  felt  now  as  he  thought  of  it 
that  he  had  showed  all  the  weakness  of  his 
nature  by  going  away.  He  would  rest  now  a 
little,  and  return.  His  work,  his  conscience,  was 
calling ;  would  his  conscience  never  let  him  rest  ? 
He  drew  up  a  chair  to  the  window  and  sat  down. 
It  was  growing  late,  and  many  of  the  lights  of 
the  city  were  going  out.  The  night  was  very 


220  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

still.  As  he  sat  there  he  thought  he  heard  a 
child  speak  in  the  next  apartment.  It  was  not 
unlike  Consuelo's  musical  voice.  He  wondered 
if  he  could  be  dreaming.  He  rose  and  crossed 
the  room,  but  the  sound  of  the  voice  had  passed. 
It  had  come  like  a  breath  from  the  homelands  to 
a  shepherd  who  had  lost  his  way. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII 
EBB  TIDE 

"  You  never  knew  my  mother,  did  you  ? "  said 
Maurice. 

The  nurse,  who  was  standing  at  the  window, 
turned.  For  the  moment  she  was  not  sure 
whether  the  child  was  awake  or  was  talking  in 
his  sleep.  During  her  care  of  him  she  had 
often  been  awakened  at  night  by  his  asking  for 
his  mother,  and  when  she  had  gone  to  him  her 
presence  would  comfort  him  and  he  would  fall 
asleep  again.  His  bed  had  been  moved  near  an 
eastern  window,  and  as  the  nurse  watched  him 
she  saw  that  he  was  awake  and  looking  upward 
at  the  sky.  He  was  apparently  in  thought.  It 
was  an  early  morning  in  September ;  the  sun 
had  barely  risen.  The  child  was  evidently  watch- 
ing it  mount  its  throne  in  the  heavens. 

"  It's  going  to  be  a  nice  day,  isn't  it,  Miss 
Long?"  he  said. 

"A  beautiful  one,"  she  replied. 

221 


222  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

"We've  had  so  much  stormy  weather,"  the 
little  fellow  continued. 

"It's  been  a  wet  season,"  said  the  nurse,  as 
she  sat  down  near  him.  "  Do  you  think  you'll 
feel  strong  enough  to  go  for  a  drive  this  after- 
noon ?  We'll  take  the  Duchess,  you  are  always 
fond  of  riding  behind  her." 

The  boy  smiled.  "Yes,  because  she's  my 
mother's  horse,"  he  said,  and  then,  turning  again 
to  the  window,  he  added,  "  If  it  does  turn  out 
a  nice  day,  I  think  my  mother  may  come." 

"  You  think  so  ?  "  said  the  nurse,  kindly,  though 
her  heart  ached  for  him  when  she  thought  of 
the  disappointment  he  must  bear  sooner  or  later. 
In  her  several  years'  care  of  sick  children  he 
was  the  most  patient  and  most  lovable  child  she 
had  ever  known. 

"You  never  knew  my  mother?"  he  again 
questioned. 

"  No,  darling,  I  never  saw  her,"  she  replied. 

"  You've  seen  her  face  in  my  locket  ?  "  he  said, 
as  he  felt  for  the  little  gold  case  containing  the 
miniature,  which  he  wore  as  a  locket  around  his 
neck. 

"Yes,  you've  shown  it  to  me,"  replied  the 
nurse,  as  she  moved  her  chair  closer  where  she 


EBB   TIDE  223 

could  look  at  it.  "And  she  looks  like  you, 
Maurice,"  she  said  brightly. 

"  Father  says  so,  too,"  the  child  said,  blushing 
a  little,  "but  my  grandmother  says  I  do  not. 
She  says  I  am  going  to  look  like  my  grand- 
father Stuyvesant;  but  I'd  rather  look  like  my 
mother." 

The  nurse  thought  his  mouth  trembled  a  little 
when  he  mentioned  her,  and  she  noticed,  too, 
as  she  had  not  before,  how  very  frail  the  baby 
hands  had  grown  within  the  last  week,  and  yet 
they  were  carrying  their  cross  without  a  murmur. 
How  often  to  baby  lips  the  cup  is  lifted,  and 
to  small  arms  the  cross  is  given ! 

The  nurse  was  about  to  ring  for  his  breakfast 
when  she  noticed  that  Maurice  had  fallen  asleep 
again.  It  was  time  for  his  medicine,  and  during 
the  early  stage  of  his  illness  she  would  have 
awakened  him  in  order  to  carry  out  instructions, 
but  the  physician  had  told  her  only  the  day 
before  that  that  was  no  longer  necessary. 

It  was  almost  nine  o'clock  before  he  awoke 
again.  When  he  did,  his  eyes  brightened  at 
finding  his  father  sitting  beside  him  on  the  bed. 
He  reached  up  his  baby  arms,  and  Mr.  Merrall 
stooped  and  kissed  him. 


224  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

"  Good  morning,  my  son,"  he  said  tenderly. 

The  child  kept  his  arms  about  his  neck  for  a 
moment,  then  he  said,  looking  up  into  his  father's 
face :  "  Father,  you've  been  crying.  You  told 
me  the  other  night,  when  I  cried  because  my 
mother  didn't  come,  that  men  never  cried  —  not 
even  little  men  like  me." 

Mr.  Merrall  loosened  the  arms  tenderly,  and 
silently  wiped  away  the  tears.  But  his  eyes 
filled  again  as  they  are  wont  to  do  when  a  heart 
is  breaking. 

It  was  the  first  time  Maurice  had  ever  seen 
his  father  in  any  trouble,  and  it  alarmed  him. 
He  was  too  sick  a  child,  ay,  too  small  at  all,  to 
know  of  the  great  trouble  that  had  come  to  them 
all ;  to  realize  that  his  waiting  was  to  be  in 
vain. 

Maurice  put  out  his  hand  and  laid  it  in  his 
father's.  "  Father,  will  you  do  something  for 
me,"  he  said,  "  if  I  ask  you  ? "  He  made  an 
effort  to  raise  himself  up  on  the  pillow,  but  his 
father  had  lifted  him  before  he  had  made  the 
exertion. 

"Will  you,  father?"  the  child  asked  again. 

"  I  will  try,  my  boy,"  Mr.  Merrall  said,  as  he 
brushed  back  the  curls  from  the  child's  face ; 


EBB  TIDE  225 

"but  sometimes  we  are  not  always  able  to  do 
what  is  asked  of  us.  You  will  find  that  out, 
dearest,  when  you  are  as  old  as  I,  and  have  little 
boys  of  your  own  to  take  care  of." 

"  But  you  do  not  know  what  I  want  you  to  do, 
father." 

"  I  am  not  sure,  of  course,"  came  the  quiet 
reply. 

"  I  want  you  to  go  and  get  my  mother,"  said  the 
child.  "  Will  you,  father  ?  To-day  ?  " 

Mr.  Merrall  hesitated  a  moment  before  he 
replied,  for  it  seemed  to  him  as  if  his  heart  had 
surged  to  his  throat  and  was  choking  him. 

"  And  if  it  must  be  to  wait  a  little  longer,  Mau- 
rice, my  boy,"  he  said  tenderly,  "will  you  not  be 
patient  and  wait  with  me,  since  she  will  surely 
come  some  day." 

" Soon? "  said  the  child. 

"  Yes,  soon,"  repeated  Mr.  Merrall  after  him. 

"And  some  day  I  shall  have  her  with  me 
always,  father  ? " 

"Yes,  always,"  he  said. 


CHAPTER   XXIX 
LIKE  A  SIGNAL  IN   THE   NIGHT 
"  The  world  is  a  masked  ball."  —  MERY. 

To  one  man  the  sight  of  a  face  on  shore  atoned 
for  the  long  parting  when  the  St.  Paul  came  to 
her  dock  that  late  October  day.  There  were 
several  there  to  bid  Lonspetti  welcome :  Madame, 
the  child  Consuelo,  Ghleska,  and  Edythe,  though 
in  his  eyes  he  could  see  but  one  face,  and  that  of 
the  woman  he  loved,  and  for  love  of  whom  to  him 
all  women  were  perfect. 

It  was  Consuelo  who  welcomed  him  first  when 
he  stepped  down  the  gang-plank,  bronzed  and 
stouter  for  his  trip.  He  thought  when  he  took 
Edythe's  hand  in  his  that  she  was  not  looking  as 
well  as  when  he  went  away  in  the  early  summer ; 
but  her  smile  was  the  same,  though  in  her  eyes, 
to  one  who  knew  them,  there  was  a  sorrow  lurk- 
ing —  a  sorrow  that  was  too  great  for  the  soul  to 
shelter  within  itself.  He  questioned  Madame 
about  her  when  they  had  reached  the  latter 's 

226 


LIKE   A   SIGNAL  IN   THE   NIGHT  22/ 

apartment.  "  She  is  working  too  hard  at  the  re- 
hearsals," he  was  told.  "  She  opens  the  middle 
of  this  month,  and  you  can't  drag  her  from  her 
work." 

"  She  is  not  strong  enough,  she  should  not  be 
allowed  to  do  it,"  Lonspetti  said,  and  there  was 
feeling  in  his  voice. 

Madame  elevated  her  well-arched  brows  as  if 
such  a  thing  was  impossible,  and  turned  to  caress 
Consuelo,  who  had  just  come  up. 

"  I'm  very  glad  you're  home,  Signer,"  that 
young  lady  said,  as  she  regarded  him  from  where 
she  leaned  against  her  grandmother.  The  Signer 
smiled  kindly.  He  thought  he  detected  shyness 
in  the  child's  voice. 

"  I  was  beginning  to  wonder  if  all  my  friends 
were  going  abroad,"  she  added,  after  a  moment's 
deliberation,  as  she  leaned  her  flaxen  head  closer 
to  Madame.  "  You  know  some  one  else  has  gone 
since  you  went  away  ?  "  she  murmured. 

"  No,  and  who  can  that  be  ? " 

Madame  and  the  Signor  were  now  seated,  but 
the  child  remained  standing. 

"A  great  friend  of  all  of  us,"  she  answered; 
then  she  bit  her  lips  nervously. 

"  You  little  witch,  you're  worrying  me,"  laughed 


228  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

the  Signor,  good-naturedly,  as  he  drew  her  to  him 
and  then  up  on  the  divan  beside  him. 

"  Mr.  Courtney  has  gone  abroad  for  a  time," 
Madame  said,  as  she  noted  the  child's  unhappiness. 

"You  surprise  me,"  said  the  Signor,  "and  how 
long  has  he  been  gone  ? " 

"  A  long  time,"  Corisuelo  answered,  with  touch- 
ing graveness,  "and  he's  not  coming  back  very 
soon  —  he  told  me  so." 

Madame  rose  at  that  moment  to  greet  some 
friends  who  had  hesitated  on  the  threshold  for 
lack  of  a  welcome,  and  these  she  brought  forward 
to  introduce  to  the  Signor. 

"  I  am  going  to  present  to  you,  Signor,  two  old 
friends  of  mine,"  and  she  introduced  the  British 
Consul  and  Mr.  Raffaelli,  the  Italian  actor.  The 
Signor  shook  hands  cordially  with  them  both.  "  I 
knew  absolutely  nothing  of  this  welcome,"  he  said, 
when  they  were  all  seated,  with  the  exception  of 
Madame,  who  had  left  them  for  the  moment.  "  I 
must  therefore  ask  the  indulgence  of  my  good 
friends  for  my  travel-worn  raiment." 

"  In  speaking  thus  you  cast  reflection  upon  the 
garments  of  us  all,"  laughed  Mr.  Raffaelli. 

There  was  a  momentary  pause  as  there  is  wont 
to  be  among  men  recently  come  together,  which 


LIKE   A   SIGNAL   IN   THE   NIGHT  229 

Mr.  Cavendish,  the  British  Consul,  interrupted  by 
inquiring  for  the  ladies ;  Mrs.  Merrall  he  particu- 
larly mentioned. 

"Of  them  I  know  not,"  laughed  the  Signor; 
"  to  my  thinking  they  are  all  in  one  of  the  smaller 
rooms.  Mrs.  Merrall  came  up  from  the  pier  with 
us;  but  something  has  apparently  attracted  her 
elsewhere." 

"  If  you  will  pardon  me  I  will  look  for  her," 
Mr.  Cavendish  said,  rising,  and  adjusting  his 
monocle  he  hastened  away. 

"  It's  a  case  of  pure  infatuation,"  Mr.  Raffaelli 
was  moved  to  disclose  when  Mr.  Cavendish  was 
out  of  hearing.  "  I  introduced  them  a  few  nights 
ago,  and  the  man  will  talk  of  little  else  since." 

"  I  admire  his  exquisite  taste,"  replied  the 
Signor,  quietly. 

"  Truly,  most  excellent,"  Mr.  Raffaelli  replied. 

Madame  brought  up  some  other  friends  at  that 
moment,  and  the  two  men  drifted  apart.  He 
learned  later  in  the  evening  that  Mr.  Raffaelli 
was  the  Romeo  of  Edythe's  forthcoming  produc- 
tion of  Shakespeare's  love  masterpiece.  He  had 
wondered  when  he  was  talking  to  him  if  he  had 
ever  played  the  r61e,  the  whole  appearance  of 
the  man  suggested  it.  He  was  tall,  and  had  the 


230  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

dark  hair  and  skin  of  the  Italian  race.  His  eyes 
were  very  large  and  tenderly  kind.  He  was  an 
old  friend  of  Madame's,  he  learned  later.  It  was 
his  first  visit  to  America.  He  had  had  a  great 
trouble,  and  he  was  glad  to  come  at  her  invitation 
to  new  scenes  and  friends  —  the  latter  the  Signer 
was  confident  he  would  find. 

There  were  a  good  many  to  welcome  the  Sig- 
nor  home  that  night,  though  there  was  a  decided 
lull  in  the  arrivals  between  seven  and  eleven. 
As  Madame  said,  by  way  of  apology,  "The 
old  world  had  to  be  amused  and  pacified,  even  if 
it  did  take  the  greater  number  of  her  guests  to 
do  it.  Selfish  old  world." 

Ghleska,  who  always  endeavoured  to  make  his 
business  engagements  favour  his  social  ones  with- 
out detriment  to  either,  was  reminded  by  a  mes- 
senger boy  at  nearly  eight  in  the  evening  that  he 
was  expected  at  a  Waldorf-Astoria  concert;  that 
Madame  Miranda,  whom  he  was  to  accompany, 
was  waiting  impatiently,  etc.  He  consulted  his 
note-book  to  find  that  the  engagement  had  not 
been  put  down  and  in  consequence  was  not  post- 
poned or  given  up  as  it  should  have  been  had  he 
remembered  it  in  connection  with  the  Signer's 
home-coming.  Unhappy  Ghleska ! 


LIKE   A   SIGNAL   IN   THE   NIGHT  231 

There  were  only  a  few  at  the  early  repast  of 
the  evening,  and  this  was  set  in  Madame's  bou- 
doir for  want  of  a  better  place  while  the  guests 
were  arriving.  A  telegram  came  from  Emma 
Marie  just  as  they  were  about  to  sit  down  that 
she  would  get  in  from  Washington  at  eight,  and 
wanted  Consuelo  sent  to  the  station  to  meet  her. 
Of  course  that  young  lady  was  only  too  anxious 
to  carry  out  her  mother's  wishes,  and  Mr.  Caven- 
dish was  asked  to  escort  her  ladyship  hence. 
Some  guests  next  interrupted  Madame's  supper, 
and  she  decided  then  and  there  to  postpone  it 
indefinitely. 

Edythe  had  not  moved  from  where  Lonspetti 
first  saw  her  when  he  entered  the  Enchanted 
Palace,  as  he  was  wont  to  call  Madame's  fairy 
boudoir.  She  was  still  sitting  where  Mr.  Caven- 
dish had  unwillingly  left  her  in  the  little  bay 
window  of  the  room,  her  face  turned  toward  the 
window.  Her  supper,  which  was  on  a  table  be- 
side her,  was  untouched.  The  moon,  which  was 
trying  its  best  to  make  itself  seen,  looked  in  upon 
her  several  times,  and  as  she  turned  her  face  a 
little  Lonspetti  saw  that  it  was  unnaturally  white. 
He  wondered  as  he  watched  her  sitting  there 
alone  why  she  didn't  turn  to  him.  He  knew  that 


232  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

she  must  be  aware  of  his  presence  in  the  room. 
Surely  she  couldn't  be  so  infatuated  with  Caven- 
dish, he  thought,  that  she  would  neglect  her  old 
friends.  Raffaelli  and  Dorothy  had  kept  up  a 
most  active  conversation  at  their  end  of  the  tea- 
table,  but  it  had  been  lost  to  Lonspetti,  who  was 
hardly  aware  of  their  presence.  They  rose  now 
and  went  out,  and  Lonspetti  crossed  the  room  to 
Edythe.  But  he  did  not  sit  down  beside  her  of 
his  own  volition,  not  until  she  turned  to  him,  and 
seeing  who  it  was  drew  him  to  a  place  on  the 
window-seat  beside  her.  He  saw  then  when  he 
looked  her  full  in  the  eyes  that  they  were  full  of 
unshed  tears. 

"You  are  unhappy,"  Lonspetti  said  when  she 
did  not  speak. 

"  No,  only  tired,"  she  replied,  though  her  mouth 
quivered  a  little  as  she  said  it.  "I've  been  work- 
ing hard,  that  is  all,"  then  looking  up  at  him, 
"  but  I  should  have  forgotten  myself  to-night  in 
the  happiness  of  having  you  back  again.  I  know 
I  have  been  selfish,  but  you  will  forgive  me." 
As  she  spoke  she  laid  a  hand  down  on  his,  and 
he  took  it  up  in  both  of  his,  and  kissed  it. 

"  I'm  sorry,  no  matter  what  it  is  that  troubles 
you,"  he  said.  "  I  am  sorry,  very  sorry." 


LIKE   A   SIGNAL   IN   THE   NIGHT  233 

"You  never  think  of  yourself,  Signer,"  said 
Edythe,  "so  you  don't  know  what  selfishness 
is." 

"  Perhaps  I  know,"  said  Lonspetti.  "  If  I 
stand  on  any  pedestal  in  your  eyes,  let  me  de- 
scend, for  I  am  the  most  mortal  of  men,  and  in- 
heritor of  many  weaknesses  and  human  frailties 
rather  than  the  virtues  which  fit  us  for  immortal- 
ity." He  looked  down  at  her,  and  he  saw  that 
the  tears  were  gathering  in  her  eyes. 

"You  won't  tell  me  what  troubles  you,"  he  said 
gently,  but  she  did  not  answer  him.  Consuelo 
came  in  at  that  moment  and  announced  with  all 
gravity  that  Miss  Marion  had  brought  a  gentle- 
man with  her  who  could  foretell  the  future  of 
any  one  without  a  single  failure. 

"  Has  he  told  yours,  my  precious  one  ? "  Edythe 
asked,  as  she  rose  to  go  back  to  the  rooms  with 
her. 

"  He  told  mine  first,"  promptly  answered  the 
child.  "  He  says  that  I'll  never  be  a  public  woman 
like  my  mother  or  grandmere,  and  that  I'll  marry 
before  I'm  twenty  either  a  lawyer  or  a  clergy- 
man." 

"  Splendid,"  exclaimed  Lonspetti,  as  he  stepped 
forward  and  parted  the  portieres  for  them  to  pass 


234  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

through.  "  And  you  never  have  wanted  to  be  an 
actress,  have  you  ? "  he  said,  again  joining  them. 

"  No,  indeed,"  she  replied  frankly.  "  There  are 
too  many  ups  and  downs  to  the  profession  to  suit 
me.  I  want  a  quiet  life." 

When  the  Signer  betrayed  the  child's  confidence 
to  Madame,  she  laughed,  though  there  was  a  touch 
of  sadness  in  the  voice.  "  Poor  child,  her  mother's 
unsuccessful  career  has  given  her  a  prejudice 
against  the  life  for  herself." 

"  But  Emma  has  been  more  or  less  success- 
ful ? " 

Madame  smiled  kindly.  "  She  certainly  knows 
how  to  stir  things  up  with  a  big  spoon,"  she  said. 
"  She  forgets  that  fish  do  not  remain  long  in  whirl- 
pools, they  prefer  contemplating  the  choice  of  the 
bait  after  their  own  fashion."  He  turned  to  shake 
hands  with  Emma,  who  had  just  caught  sight  of 
him ;  but  before  he  had  had  a  word  with  her  some 
one  at  the  end  of  the  long  room  began  to  sing,  and 
they  sat  down  to  listen.  The  singer  was  unknown 
to  Lonspetti.  He  could  only  see  at  intervals  as 
the  crowd  moved  a  young  man  with  an  eager 
white  face,  a  face  with  only  a  pair  of  large  melan- 
choly eyes  to  redeem  it,  but  a  voice  that  one  would 
not  be  likely  to  forget.  Before  the  young  singer 


LIKE   A   SIGNAL   IN   THE  NIGHT  235 

had  reached  the  second  stanza  of  the  song 
Lonspetti  found  himself  standing  almost  at  the 
young  man's  side.  It  was  a  love-song  of  Schu- 
mann's. Madame  said  afterward  that  he  looked 
like  an  inspired  man  as  he  stood  there  and  listened 
to  it.  If  despair  unbidden  had  crossed  the  thresh- 
old of  his  heart  where  hope  had  been,  it  passed 
.  out  again  with  the  last  words  of  the  song.  Lon- 
spetti had  watched  Edythe  with  Mr.  Cavendish, 
and  he  saw  that  she  was  not  interested  in  him. 
Perhaps,  after  all,  he  had  been  mistaken.  Edythe 
was  not  sitting  far  from  him  during  the  song,  and 
several  times  he  saw  her  brush  some  tears  away. 
"  Perhaps,  after  all,  she  cares  for  thee,"  his  heart 
was  trying  to  murmur  to  him ;  but  he  stilled  it 
gently,  for  he  dared  not  allow  himself  to  hope. 
Some  one  broke  in  upon  his  revery  by  asking  him 
to  play.  It  was  Madame  Miranda,  the  Swedish 
diva.  He  could  not,  he  told  her,  because  the 
Stradivarius  had.  been  left  at  his  apartment  on  the 
way  from  the  pier.  He  remembered  afterward 
that  her  smile  was  that  of  a  woman  who  was  not 
accustomed  to  being  refused  a  request.  He  could 
have  sent  for  the  violin,  at  least,  she  thought ;  but 
she  only  bowed  and  withdrew.  "  She  did  not 
realize  that  I  was  too  tired  to  play  to-night,"  Lon- 


236  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

spetti  thought  when  she  had  gone.  He  regretted 
that  he  had  refused  a  woman  anything  that  was  in 
his  power  to  grant.  The  greatest  happiness  in  the 
world  he  felt  was  in  giving  them  pleasure.  But 
he  was  tired  to-night.  In  the  joy  of  returning 
home,  he  had  slept  but  little  on  the  way.  There 
would  be  plenty  of  time  to  rest  after  he  reached 
home,  he  thought  —  after  he  had  seen  her  once 
again,  the  living  woman  of  his  dreams.  He  told 
Edythe  of  the  occurrence  when  she  came  up  to 
him  later,  and  she  laughed  at  him  for  being  so 
serious.  For  the  moment  she  looked  like  her  old 
self  again  —  before  that  tired  look  came  into  her 
face,  and  before  that  unhappiness  had  sought 
possession  of  her  eyes.  He  was  only  tired,  he 
told  her,  that  was  the  answer  that  she  had  given 
him.  It  would  suffice  again.  She  sat  down  for  a 
moment  on  a  divan  beside  him.  As  he  looked  at 
her  there,  he  thought  that  he  must  go  still  farther 
back  than  when  he  went  away  to  remember  when 
he  had  seen  her  look  so  care-free  and  happy.  He 
did  not  realize  that  she  was  only  feigning  her 
happiness  to  render  him  cheerful,  for  it  was  his 
home-coming,  and  she  had  been  selfish  enough  to 
forget  it.  "  It's  hard  to  realize  that  this  is  not  a 
dream,"  he  said,  "  and  that  you  are  really  once 


LIKE   A   SIGNAL  IN   THE   NIGHT  237 

more  here  beside  me."  There  was  great  tender- 
ness in  his  voice. 

"  And  you  are  glad,  perhaps,"  she  said,  "  that  it 
is  so  ?  "  She  rose,  for  a  gentleman  was  approach- 
ing them. 

"  I  am  going  to  ask  for  an  introduction  to  the 
Signer  Lonspetti,"  the  stranger  said,  "  if  I  may  be 
granted  that  honour  ?  " 

Lonspetti  rose  at  the  mention  of  his  name. 

"  This  is  the  gentleman  who  has  foretold  little 
Consuelo's  future,"  Edythe  said,  by  way  of  intro- 
duction. "  Professor  Tellano,  the  Signor  Lon- 
spetti." 

"  A  name  well  known  to  me,"  said  Lonspetti, 
as  they  shook  hands.  "I  believe  we  were  in 
London  about  the  same  time." 

The  professor  laughed.  "  I  came  near  meeting 
you  several  times,"  he  said. 

"  I  want  you  to  read  the  Signer's  hand,  profes- 
sor," Edythe  interrupted  ;  "that  is,  if  we  can  find  a 
quiet  corner." 

"  Nothing  would  give  me  so  much  pleasure," 
said  the  professor.  "  I  was  going  to  ask  for  that 
honour." 

But  the  Signor  only  laughed.  "  I  must  beg  off," 
he  said.  "  You  would  find  nothing  there  but 


238  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

unfulfilled  ambition  and  unrealized  hopes."  The 
Signer's  voice  was  touched  with  sadness.  There 
was  a  sound  of  laughter  from  another  part  of  the 
room.  A  young  man  was  giving  a  recitation 
about  a  tiger  named  Horace,  who  always  disposed 
of  visiting  relatives  and  friends  when  their  visits 
became  chronic  complaints,  but  who  drew  a  line  at 
the  mother-in-law  because  she  had  so  seriously  dis- 
agreed with  him  in  life  that  he  feared  her  in  death, 
and  they  joined  in  the  applause  that  followed, 
although  they  had  missed  the  story. 

A  moment  later  the  three  had  passed  into 
Madame's  boudoir.  "This  is  on  the  condition 
that  you  tell  Mrs.  Merrall's  fortune  first,"  added 
the  Signor,  as  he  turned  up  the  light.  Outside 
supper  was  being  announced.  Some  one  came 
in  for  any  chairs  that  the  boudoir  afforded.  It 
was  Mr.  Cavendish.  He  hesitated  near  the  por- 
tieres when  he  saw  that  the  professor  was  study- 
ing Edythe's  hand.  He  believed  in  palmistry,  in 
truth  he  quoted  it  almost  as  a  religion.  The 
Signor  was  sitting  with  his  back  toward  him,  and 
did  not  notice  him. 

"  And  what  after  the  year  ? "  he  heard  Edythe 
say.  "  You  say  there  are  two  deaths  that  will 
trouble  me,  though  there  is  some  brightness  — 


LIKE   A   SIGNAL  IN   THE   NIGHT  239 

and  after  that,  what  ?  "  There  was  a  long  silence. 
Mr.  Cavendish  stepped  back  into  the  room. 

"  There  will  be  a  great  change,"  he  heard  the 
professor  make  reply.  "  It  will  be  unexpected. 
I  cannot  tell  you  what  it  will  be.  An  important 
line  crosses  the  life  line."  He  was  about  to  say, 
"  and  divides  it." 

"  And  you  tell  me  that  you  have  never  seen 
it  except  in  my  hand,"  Edythe  said,  as  he  took 
Lonspetti's. 

"  I  have  seen  it,  though  not  so  clearly  marked," 
he  replied  ;  "yet  here  it  is  again,"  he  exclaimed, 
as  he  studied  the  Signer's  hand.  "  It  crosses  his 
life  about  forty-two.  It  is  a  peculiar  coincidence." 

Mr.  Cavendish  opened  the  door  to  go  out,  and 
sounds  of  some  stray  music  from  the  drawing- 
room  reached  them.  Lonspetti  drew  his  hand 
away.  "  We  had  better  go  back,"  he  said. 

"  But  you  did  not  let  me  study  further,"  inter- 
rupted the  professor. 

"  Yes,  let  him  see  what  follows  it,"  Edythe  said, 
as  he  rose  to  go. 

But  Lonspetti  was  firm.  "  If  the  line  means 
anything  in  my  hand,"  he  said,  and  despite  the 
firmness,  there  was  gentleness  in  his  voice,  "  the 
professor  would  indeed  be  a  prophet  if  he  could 


240  THE   TENTH    COMMANDMENT 

tell  what  follows  it.  No  man  has  done  that  yet ; 
am  I  not  right,  Tellano  ?  " 

But  the  professor  was  silent. 

"  Do  you  mean,"  said  Edythe,  "  that  that  line 
can  possibly  mean  —  "  but  she  did  not  finish  the 
sentence,  she  only  laughed  at  her  fear.  "  How 
foolish  I  was,"  she  said.  "  I  quite  forgot  myself." 

"  It  is  only  a  trick  of  nature,  after  all,"  mur- 
mured Lonspetti,  as  he  opened  the  door  for  her, 
and  he  wondered,  as  he  thought  of  it  afterward, 
if  his  surmise  was  correct. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

ROSEMARY 
"Rosemary — that's  for  remembrance." 

AFTER  all,  why  not  cherish  and  encourage  the 
caresses  of  the  world  while  they  are  given,  since 
life  is  short,  and  we  pass  this  way  but  once  ? 

The  return  of  Edythe  Barattoni  to  the  stage 
after  ten  years  had  proved  that  the  public's  regret 
at  her  retirement  had  been  sincere.  They  had 
made  her  return  a  veritable  triumph. 

The  play  was  "  Romeo  and  Juliet."  After  all,  we 
are  not  all  pessimistic. 

"  It  is  a  young  world,"  says  Marie,  "  when  you 
appeal  to  the  heart  and  not  to  the  purse  strings." 

The  Empire  Theatre  was  crowded  to  the  very 
roof.  The  boxes  and  the  orchestra  looked  more 
like  a  night  at  the  Metropolitan  than  a  theatre  in 
which  a  dramatic  performance  was  being  given. 
Society  had  turned  out  in  full  force  to  do  her 
honour.  There  were  many  in  the  house  that  night 
who  remembered  her  first  appearance  on  the 

241 


242  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

stage,  her  later  success  in  the  r61e  she  was  essay- 
ing to-night,  when  the  critics  wrote  of  her  that  she 
might  have  been  the  woman  who  inspired  this 
tragedy  had  she  lived  in  Shakespeare's  day. 
They  called  her  acting  delightful ;  the  woman  who 
returned  to  them  that  night,  after  ten  years,  was 
superb.  Her  marital  troubles  with  which  the 
world  was  familiar  had  left  no  trace  upon  the 
youth  or  beauty  of  the  woman,  though  her  experi- 
ence with  the  world  had  developed  her  power  as 
an  actress. 

When  she  came  on  the  stage  that  night  some 
one  from  an  upper  box  threw  on  the  stage  a 
bunch  of  rosemary.  Whether  or  not  the  audience 
noticed  the  sentiment  of  the  flower,  we  do  not 
know.  We  are  only  aware  of  another  burst  of 
enthusiasm.  It  was  several  minutes  before  the 
play  could  proceed.  It  was  a  happy  thought  of 
Madame  Marie  to  intermingle  the  operatic  music 
with  the  play.  In  the  pauses  of  the  play  the 
music  of  the  opera  could  be  heard,  beautiful, 
dreamy,  and  tenderly  reminiscent.  The  Juliet  of 
Edythe  Barattoni  was  no  overstudied  or  over- 
acted portrayal.  It  was  thoroughly  melodious  and 
exquisitely  alive  with  youth.  Her  intonation  was 
full  of  charm,  music,  and  poetry.  Of  her  support- 


ROSEMARY  243 

ing  company  there  was  nothing  but  praise  to  be 
said.  The  Romeo  was  a  young  Italian  actor,  Don 
Raffaelli,  who  was  unknown  to  the  audience,  but 
who  was  warmly  taken  into  their  affection  before 
the  curtain  fell.  The  sincerity  of  his  acting  supple 
mented  by  his  youth  and  bearing  made  his  success 
after  the  balcony  scene  almost  as  distinct  and 
emphatic  as  that  of  the  actress  whom  he  was  sup- 
porting. Edythe  appeared  more  delighted  with 
the  attention  he  received  than  with  her  own  per- 
sonal triumph.  She  had  worked  long  and  untir- 
ingly to  accomplish  what  the  night  had  fulfilled. 
There  was  not  a  part  or  scene  in  the  play  but 
that  had  had  her  individual  attention  and  thought, 
and  the  presentation  of  the  play  showed  the  full 
value  of  the  setting.  Several  times  in  the  prog- 
ress of  the  play  Edythe  caught  sight  of  a  party  in 
one  of  the  upper  boxes.  There  was  Madame  in 
a  dinner  gown  of  dull  black  silk ;  the  bodice  and 
demi-train  of  crape  was  relieved  of  its  sombreness 
somewhat  by  a  collarette  of  diamonds  and  numer- 
ous decorations.  There  was  no  one  in  the  house 
that  night  who  was  so  much  noticed  as  the  famous 
tragedienne.  That  she  was  aware  of  the  attention 
she  was  receiving  was  apparent  from  the  fact 
that  she  sat  well  in  the  rear  of  the  box.  On  her 


244  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

arrival  she  had  been  greeted  with  applause,  and  al- 
though she  had  acknowledged  the  recognition,  it 
was  evident  that  she  had  no  wish  to  be  the  centre 
of  attraction.  Among  those  with  her  was  Lonspetti, 
who  shared  the  rear  of  the  box  with  her,  Dorothy, 
resplendent  in  a  cherry-colored  silk,  Emma  Marie, 
dressed  in  black  like  her  mother,  Mr.  Landman, 
Ghleska,  and  little  Consuelo  in  white  lace  and  a 
picture  hat  of  feathers.  When  she  was  particu- 
larly interested  in  the  wooing  of  Romeo,  the  big 
hat  was  pulled  down  over  the  eyes  as  if  to  shade 
them,  and  pushed  back  on  the  curls  when  the 
moment  was  exciting  as  in  the  potion  scene  where 
Juliet  cries  :  "  Stay,  Tybalt,  stay  !  Romeo,  I  come. 
This  do  I  drink  to  thee." 

Whenever  Edythe's  eyes  wandered  to  the  box 
she  saw  Consuelo  watching  her,  ever  interested. 
After  one  of  the  first  acts  she  made  Mr.  Ghleska 
take  her  to  Edythe,  despite  Madame's  many 
protestations,  and  her  beauty  and  wit  made  such 
a  sensation  behind  the  scenes  that  the  play  was 
delayed  several  minutes  in  consequence.  She 
could  find  no  empty  chair  in  Edythe's  chaotic 
dressing-room,  so  Raffaelli  found  a  place  for  her 
on  a  huge  basket  of  beauty  roses  which  had  been 
set  on  a  shoe  box,  and  there  she  held  regal  sway. 


ROSEMARY  245 

She  was  anxious  to  be  introduced  to  the  entire 
company,  and  the  latter  seemed  equally  pleased  to 
meet  her.  Even  the  manager  forgot  that  the  play 
was  still  under  way  and  a  large  representative 
audience  was  waiting,  and  went  in  to  shake  hands 
with  her. 

"  She's  Madame  in  miniature,"  he  said  when  he 
saw  her.  "What  a  Juliet  she  will  make  one  of 
these  future  days  !  " 

"  But  grandmere  says  she  will  never  consent  to 
it,"  adds  Consuelo,  smiling,  as  she  glanced  up  at 
him  from  the  cover  of  her  wide-brimmed  hat. 

"  But  the  world  would  lose  such  a  beautiful 
Juliet,"  he  said. 

"  But  I  have  set  my  heart  on  being  a  princess," 
said  the  child,  "  though  sometimes  I  think  I  may 
marry  a  clergyman." 

The  manager  was  moved  to  laughter  at  this 
remark,  but  her  seriousness  prevented  it,  so  he 
shook  hands  with  her  again  and  was  gone. 

Through  the  now  opened  door  came  the  music 
of  the  overture  for  the  last  act.  Call-boys  were 
seen  hurrying  on  their  way  to  the  different 
dressing-rooms.  Raffaelli,  recalling  that  he  was  to 
open  the  act,  said  good-by  and  hastened  stageward. 
Ghleska  lifted  Consuelo  from  her  throne  and  was 


246  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

about  to  take  her  out  to  the  wings  when  Edythe, 
who  was  glancing  over  a  note  which  had  just 
been  sent  into  her,  noticed  that  she  was  going, 
and  went  forward  and  took  the  child  in  her 
arms. 

"The  last  act  shall  be  better  for  your  coming, 
sweetheart,"  she  said,  as  she  kissed  her,  then  when 
she  had  gone  she  took  up  the  note  again  and  reread 
it.  The  messenger  who  had  brought  the  note  was 
waiting  for  an  answer.  Edythe  hesitated.  A  call- 
boy  broke  the  silence  laden  down  with  flowers. 
The  maid  relieved  him,  and  he  was  off  again. 
There  was  a  sound  of  applause  from  the  front  of 
the  house.  The  first  scene  of  the  last  act  was 
over.  The  actors  passed  on  their  way  to  their 
dressing-rooms.  Edythe  handed  the  messenger 
a  card  with  something  written  upon  it,  then  she 
closed  the  door  to  make  ready  for  her  next 
appearance. 

It  was  the  last  scene  of  the  play.  There  was 
a  silence  almost  deathlike  over  the  house.  The 
music  could  be  heard  like  sobbing  in  the  pauses. 
Consuelo,  who  had  returned  to  the  box,  went  to 
Madame's  arms  for  comfort.  Perhaps  it  was  her 
grief  that  was  felt. 

But  now  the  play  was  over.     The  curtain  calls 


ROSEMARY  247 

had  been  acknowledged,  and  the  audience  was 
slowly  filing  out.  Outside  the  carriages  could  be 
heard  forming  into  line.  The  theatre's  responsi- 
bility was  over.  Edythe  went  to  her  dress- 
ing-room to  find  Lionel  and  a  maid  awaiting 
her. 

She  noticed  how  pale  the  child  was  as  he  stood 
there.  He  went  forward  at  seeing  her  and  put 
his  hands  in  her  outstretched  ones. 

"  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you,  Lionel,"  she  said, 
"  though  I'm  sorry  you  came  here." 

The  boy  hesitated  a  moment  as  if  to  still  a 
tremor  in  his  voice,  then  he  said  bravely,  "  I 
wouldn't  have  come  could  I  have  helped  it,  as  you 
will  believe,"  he  said.  Their  eyes  met,  and  though 
Edythe's  were  filled  with  tears  she  noticed  that  his 
were  strangely  calm.  How  much  like  his  father 
he  was,  she  thought.  She  took  him  into  her 
dressing-room,  and  the  maid,  seeing  them,  went 
out  and  closed  the  door.  She  cleared  a  place 
for  the  boy  on  the  divan  beside  her,  but  he 
remained  standing.  "You  know,  of  course,  why 
I  have  come  ?  "  he  said  slowly.  His  heart,  which 
until  then  had  been  brave  and  strong,  rose  in  his 
throat  and  he  could  say  no  more.  Outside  the 
steady  tread  of  the  passers  could  be  heard,  and  it 


248  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

seemed  to  relieve  the  situation.  Lionel  noticed 
that  his  mother's  lips  were  quivering. 

"  I  suppose  your  father  sent  you,"  she 
replied. 

"He  knows  nothing  of  my  coming,"  said 
Lionel.  "  Maurice  asked  me  to  find  you  and 
bring  you  to  him."  Their  eyes  met  in  the  silence 
that  followed,  then  he  added,  "And  Maurice  is 
dying." 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  but  Edythe 
made  no  answer.  She  thought  she  heard  Con- 
suelo  asking  for  her.  She  had  promised  to  take 
her  home,  and  for  the  first  time  she  must  neglect 
her.  There  came  another  knock  at  the  door,  and 
a  call-boy  announced  that  her  carriage  was  wait- 
ing. She  could  hear  the  company  passing  by  her 
room  on  their  way  to  the  street.  Lionel  stood 
waiting  for  her  answer. 

"I  do  not  see  how  I  can  go,  Lionel,"  Edythe 
said  slowly.  "  We  cannot  always  do  in  this  world 
as  we  would."  A  shade  of  sadness  and  loneliness 
came  over  her  face,  and  the  tears  contrasted 
strangely  with  her  surroundings. 

"  If  it  were  only  my  children  that  I  should  see, 
I  would  go  willingly ;  but,  Lionel,  it  is  impossible 
when  one  has  cut  adrift." 


ROSEMARY  249 

The  boy  moved  to  go.  "Then  I  am  to  tell 
Maurice  that  you  cannot  come  to  him,"  he  said. 
"  Is  there  any  message  I  can  take  him  in  your 
stead  ? " 

It  seemed  to  Edythe  that  that  moment  was  the 
worst  one  she  had  ever  known.  Life,  soul,  and 
strength  seemed  to  be  deserting  her. 

"How  long  does  the  physician  think  he  can 
live?" 

"  He  says  he  cannot  live  the  week  out.  He  may 
be  dead  now,"  said  Lionel.  "  Perhaps  it  would  be 
better  if  he  were,  since  his  last  wish  cannot  be 
granted." 

"  My  boy,  go  back  to  him.  Take  him  these  roses, 
and  tell  him  that  his  mother  will  come.  It  will 
not  be  to-night,  lest  he  keep  awake  waiting;  but 
say  to  him  that  I  will  come,  and  that  my  heart 
is  with  him.  He  was  always  a  courageous  and 
patient  little  man,  and  no  one  knows  how  much 
suffering  the  loss  of  my  children  has  caused  me ; 
but  it  is  useless  to  regret  it  now."  Her  lips 
trembled,  as  if  the  confession  had  been  hard  to 
make. 

"  Then  you  will  surely  go  to  him,  mother  ? " 

"Yes,  Lionel.  Before  the  end  comes,  come 
for  me  and  I  will  go  to  him,  and  in  the 


250  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

meantime   may   God  give  me   strength    to   bear 
it." 

And  while  the  new  day  brought  remorse  and  sor- 
row with  it  to  a  woman's  heart,  it  brought  with  it 
peace  to  a  child's,  who  fell  asleep  smiling  because 
he  was  comforted. 


CHAPTER   XXXI 
CROSSING  THE  BAR 

"  FATHER." 

"Yes,  Maurice." 

"  Is  that  her  ? " 

"  Not  yet,  my  boy." 

"  She  is  not  coming,"  said  the  child. 

Mr.  Merrall  went  toward  him.  "  Keep  up 
faith,  little  man;  she  has  hardly  had  time  to 
reach  here." 

The  little  white  face  glanced  toward  the  small 
Dresden  clock  on  the  mantelpiece,  whose  jewelled 
pendulum  was  ticking  away  the  child's  last  mo- 
ments on  the  earth. 

"  I  cannot  see  it,  father  —  the  time,  what  is  it  ?  " 

"Barely  twelve." 

"  Lionel  went  when,  father  ? " 

"At  eleven  o'clock.  He  had  a  long  way  to 
go,  little  boy,  a  long  way." 

"And  I've  a  long  way  to  go,  father;  but  listen, 
there  is  the  carriage  now." 

Mr.  Merrall  rose  from  the  child's  side  and 
251 


2$2  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

went  toward  the  window.  His  carriage  was 
stopping  at  the  door.  Another  moment  Lionel 
and  his  mother  stepped  out  of  it. 

"Thank  God,"  were  Mr.  Men-all's  words  as  he 
saw  his  wife.  She  was  dressed  in  black  to-night, 
and  Mr.  Merrall  thought  she  looked  younger 
than  the  day  they  were  married.  She  came  up 
the  wide  staircase  and  greeted  her  husband 
quietly  as  she  paused  on  the  landing,  then  with 
a  smile  half  herself,  half  supernatural,  she  crossed 
over  the  threshold  and  greeted  her  boy. 

"  Mother." 

"My  little  son." 

At  the  meeting  the  nurses  had  departed,  Mr. 
Merrall  had  passed  into  the  library,  and  no  one 
witnessed  the  embrace.  When  Mr.  Merrall 
returned  Edythe  was  on  the  side  of  the  bed, 
there  were  two  loving  little  arms  around  her 
neck,  and  as  she  glanced  up  at  his  coming,  he 
noticed  that  there  were  tears  gathering  in  her 
eyes. 

"I'm  holding  her  for  you,  father;  don't  let  her 
go  again,"  whispered  the  boy.  "  I  am  so  tired 
waiting,  so  tired." 

The  child  rested  back  again  on  the  large  pil- 
lows, and  Edythe  buried  her  face  beside  him. 


CROSSING   THE    BAR  253 

"We  all  get  tired,  Maurice,"  she  said.  "It  is 
a  tired  world  at  its  best." 

"  Are  you  ever  tired,  mother  ? "  came  the 
question. 

"Yes,  Maurice,  very." 

"  Would  you  be  willing  to  go  with  me  to-night, 
mother  ? " 

"God  grant  I  could,  child.  The  journey  from 
the  world  is  the  only  comfort  we  have  for  the 
suffering  borne  by  us  here.  It  is  the  crown  of 
peace,  the  reward  for  the  service." 

"Who  will  come  for  me,  mother?" 

"God  will,  child." 

"  But  I  heard  grandmother  say  once  that  you 
didn't  believe  in  God ;  that  you  didn't  believe  that 
there  was  any  world  but  this  one.  You  don't 
believe  that,  do  you,  dearest  ? " 

Edythe  raised  her  head  from  the  pillow  and 
looked  the  boy  full  in  the  eyes. 

"I  believe  in  God  if  I  never  did  before,"  she 
said.  "  Yes,  Maurice,  despite  all  my  foolish,  idle 
words,  His  great  ruling  power  over  the  universe, 
His  great  light  and  love  to  the  children  of  men, 
cannot  be  preached  down  nor  wholly  unbelieved 
by  any  one." 

"  You  want  to  go  to  Him,  don't  you,  dearest  ?  " 


254  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

"  I  want  to  rest,  Maurice,  to  rest  in  some  land 
where  there  is  no  more  trouble." 

"  Oh,  dearest,  I  love  you  so,  and  I  am  so  sorry 
for  you.  I  know  you  didn't  go  away  because  you 
didn't  love  us,  only  because  you  were  tired  and 
wanted  to  rest ;  but  I  am  growing  tired  now  my- 
self, mother." 

"  You  have  always  been  a  tired  little  boy,  Mau- 
rice," said  Edythe,  soothing  his  feverish  brow. 
"You  always  grew  tired  quicker  than  Lionel  or 
Douglas,  because  you  always  played  harder." 

Maurice  smiled.  "  Mother,"  he  said,  "  I  was 
thinking  to-day,  will  there  be  many  little  children 
in  heaven  for  me  to  play  with  ?"  The  boy's  eyes 
grew  restless. 

"  Many,  many,  little  son,  boys  just  your  age." 

"  Boys  whose  mothers  loved  them  as  mine 
did  ?  "  he  said. 

"Yes,  boys  and  girls  whose  going  has  broken 
many  hearts  and  made  homes  desolate." 

"  Would  you  mind  singing  a  verse  to  me,  dear- 
est, from  'Lead,  Kindly  Light'?"  and  in  the  first 
early  hour  of  the  new  morning  and  the  closing 
hour  of  a  little  child's  life  came  the  sweet  refrain, 
but  only  softly,  for  it  was  breaking  the  mother's 
heart,  — 


CROSSING   THE   BAR  255 

"  Lead,  kindly  light. 

The  night  is  dark,  and  I  am  far  from  home, 
Lead  thou  me  on." 

"  Mother,"  said  the  child,  as  her  voice  trembled 
in  the  singing,  "don't  cry,  for  I  love  you,  and 
after  I  go  to  heaven,  don't  forget  that  I  am  wait- 
ing for  you,  and  that  I  shall  never  be  contented 
there  till  I  have  you  with  me." 

"  Perhaps,  Maurice,  I  shall  never  be  good 
enough  to  go  to  you." 

With  an  almost  supernatural  intuition  that  oft- 
times  dying  children  have,  he  said :  "  But  God  will 
wash  away  the  sins  of  the  world,  mother,  and  I 
hear  some  one  saying  to  me  that  I  will  not  have 
to  wait  long  for  you.  It  seems,  mother,  as  if  the 
room  was  full  of  people  who  have  come  for  me, 
and  one  of  them  is  my  little  sister." 

If  there  is  unbelief  in  the  heart  and  a  feeling 
that  religion  is  only  a  delusion  after  all,  if  truth 
and  hope  are  becoming  moss-grown  by  the  teach- 
ings of  the  present  day  doubters,  if  the  faith  of 
our  fathers  is  being  forgotten  in  the  presence  of 
death  and  in  the  overpowering,  comforting  love 
of  the  Father  which  attends  the  journeyers  from 
earth,  the  worst  sceptic  is  ashamed  of  his  self- 
wrought  weakness;  and  the  thought  came  to 


256  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

Edythe  that  night  as  she  knelt  by  the  child's  bed- 
side that  there  must  be  a  home  prepared  somewhere 
where,  after  the  fever  and  the  unrest  of  the  world, 
after  the  smart  and  sting  of  sorrow's  rod,  souls 
pass  and  are  comforted.  She  had  faith  that  her 
boy  was  passing  to  some  land  where  she  would 
eventually  find  her  two  children  waiting.  The 
boy  had  been  silent  several  moments  when  she 
felt  the  little  arms  tighten  about  her  neck,  and 
putting  her  face  down  close  to  his,  she  heard  him 
say,  "  Sing  to  me  again,  mother,  '  There  is  a 
blessed  home,' "  but  though  her  heart  would,  her 
voice  was  too  choked  to  speak.  She  could  only 
bury  her  face  in  the  pillow  beside  his  white  one, 
and  he  was  too  far  gone  to  see  how  his  mother 
was  troubled. 

Mr.  Merrall  came  forward  and  knelt  by  Edythe 
at  the  child's  bedside.  The  clock  struck  the  half 
hour  of  one.  Maurice  noticed  it  slightly,  for  the 
presence  and  stillness  of  death  was  over  the  room. 
He  opened  his  eyes,  and  seeing  his  parents  with 
him  made  another  effort  to  speak  to  them.  His 
father  bent  over  and  kissed  him  long  and  tenderly. 
"  Love  her,  father,"  the  child  said  faintly,  and  as 
he  sank  lower  in  the  pillow,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Mcll- 
vaine  stepped  forward  and  said  :  "  To  Thee,  O 


CROSSING   THE   BAR  257 

God,  most  merciful  and  kind  Father,  take  unto 
Thy  care  and  into  Thy  loving  arms  the  soul  of 
this,  Thy  beloved  child,  who  has  been  a  faithful 
servant  of  the  cross  during  his  few  years  on  the 
earth.  Grant  him  peace  and  joy  and  the  strength 
of  Thy  almighty  protection  to-night  and  forever." 
Mr.  Men-all's  eyes  rilled  with  tears,  but  Edythe 
remained  calm  through  it  all.  For  a  moment 
after  the  clergyman  had  ceased  speaking  a  mist 
came  about  the  child's  form,  so  deep  that  his  face 
was  hardly  perceptible.  Edythe,  who  was  hold- 
ing the  child's  hand,  put  forth  her  other  hand  to 
touch  his  face  again,  and  as  she  did  so  the  mist 
rose,  and  as  it  cleared  they  both  noticed  the 
changed  expression  on  the  boy's  face ;  for  death 
had  been  there,  and  his  little  soul  had  gone  with 
the  tide,  out  beyond  any  recalling  —  to  the  Father. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 
THE   HARBOUR  ENTRANCE 

WITH  the  exception  of  a  few  pews  left  for  the 
family,  Calvary  Church  was  crowded  to  the  doors, 
and  it  was  yet  half  an  hour  before  the  service. 

In  the  crowd  that  had  gathered  it  was  impossible 
to  distinguish  the  friend  from  the  stranger.  There 
were  those  who  talked  of  the  dead  boy  in  whis- 
pers, as  among  those  who  had  known  him,  and 
there  were  others  who  were  there  merely  out  of 
curiosity  because  of  the  public  career  of  the  child's 
mother.  Not  a  few  noticed  on  their  way  down 
Fourth  Avenue  that  morning  a  theatrical  billboard 
which  had  been  erected  on  the  site  of  a  new  build- 
ing near  Twenty-third  Street,  almost  within  sight 
of  the  church,  which  bore  the  announcement,  be- 
neath a  life-size  poster  of  the  actress,  of  the  return 
to  the  stage  of  Edythe  Barattoni.  Almost  as  the 
carriages  were  turning  into  the  avenue,  a  man  was 
seen  affixing  a  strip  across  the  face  of  the  board 
with  the  single  word  "  Cancelled  "  upon  it. 

258 


THE  HARBOUR  ENTRANCE       259 

The  day  was  glorious.  Not  a  cloud  passed  over 
the  sky.  Hope,  joy,  and  love  seemed  to  reign  like 
three  guardian  angels  over  the  world. 

There  was  the  usual  crowd  of  idlers  about  the 
church  door.  Some  had  not  taken  the  trouble  to 
ascertain  whose  funeral  it  was,  while  others  were 
discussing  the  information  they  had  gained  from 
the  daily  newspapers. 

But  silence  followed,  for  the  carriages  were  seen 
approaching  the  church.  The  crowd  stood  aside 
respectfully,  almost  reverently.  The  doors  of  the 
church  were  opened  wide,  and  from  it  came  the 
sound  of  the  great  organ,  and  the  voices  of 
the  choir  boys  as  they  approached  the  doors 
singing :  — 

"  Lead,  kindly  light,  amid  the  encircling  gloom, 

Lead  thou  me  on. 

The  night  is  dark,  and  I  am  far  from  home, 
Lead  thou  me  on." 

It  was  somewhat  of  a  departure  from  the  usual 
service,  and  the  innovation  was  touching.  Clearly 
and  heavenly  the  voices  rang  out  above  the  notes 
of  the  organ  :  — 

"  And  with  the  dawn,  those  angel  faces  smile, 
That  I  have  loved  long  since  —  and  lost  awhile." 


260  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

But  the  singing  ceased.  The  carriages  had 
stopped  at  the  church.  The  pallbearers,  all  young 
boys,  alighted  from  the  carriages  first,  and  had 
hardly  taken  their  places  on  the  sidewalk  when  the 
little  white  hearse  drew  up  to  the  church  door.  In 
the  carriage  behind  it  were  Mr.  Merrall,  his  mother, 
and  his  two  remaining  children. 

There  was  some  comment  made  among  the 
crowd  gathered  at  the  door  at  the  absence  of  the 
child's  mother.  In  their  attention  to  the  mourners 
they  had  not  noticed  a  tall  young  woman,  dressed 
in  simple  black,  holding  a  little  girl  by  the  hand, 
who  had  passed  them  without  attracting  their 
attention  some  moments  before.  Even  those  in 
the  church  had  not  noticed  her  as  she  passed 
quietly  in  and  took  a  seat  that  was  offered  her  half 
way  up  the  middle  aisle.  Had  they  realized  who 
it  was,  perhaps  some  sympathy  would  have  gone 
out  to  her,  for  she  was  sobbing  bitterly  as  Dr. 
Mcllvaine,  who  had  met  the  funeral  procession  at 
the  door,  came  slowly  up  the  aisle  reading  the 
burial  service.  "  I  am  the  resurrection  and  the 
life,  saith  the  Lord.  He  that  believeth  in  me, 
though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live,  and  whoso- 
ever liveth  and  believeth  in  me  shall  never  die." 

Though  the  voice  of  the  rector  was  distinct,  at 


THE  HARBOUR  ENTRANCE       261 

times  it  was  lost  in  the  sobbing  of  the  congregation. 
The  choir  boys,  who  had  preceded  Dr.  Mcllvaine, 
took  their  places  in  the  choir,  and  as  the  child's 
body  passed  the  mother  kneeling,  the  rector's  voice 
broke  the  silence  again.  "We  brought  nothing 
into  this  world,  and  it  is  certain  that  we  can  carry 
nothing  out."  Those  who  knew  Dr.  Mcllvaine 
best  detected  the  quiver  in  his  voice  which  was 
usually  so  full  of  strength.  "  The  Lord  gave,"  he 
read  from  the  open  book  in  his  hand,  "and  the 
Lord  taketh  away,  blessed  be  the  name  of  the 
Lord." 

As  Dr.  Mcllvaine  entered  the  chancel,  the  pall- 
bearers put  down  their  burden  before  the  altar,  and 
it  was  almost  lost  to  view  in  the  banks  of  white 
flowers,  roses,  lilies  of  the  valley,  and  the  hyacinth. 
The  rector  turned  to  the  appointed  lesson,  and  the 
choir  began  singing :  — 

"  Lord,  let  me  know  my  end  and  the  number  of 
my  days,  that  I  may  be  certified  how  long  I  have 
to  live." 

There  was  a  momentary  pause  in  the  service, 
and  a  boy  soloist,  hardly  larger  than  the  dead 
child,  stepped  forward,  and  with  his  little  flushed 
face  raised  slightly,  his  voice  rang  out,  like  a  bird 
in  paradise :  — 


262  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

"  Behold,  Thou  hast  made  my  days  as  it  were  a 
span  long,  and  mine  age  is  even  as  nothing  in  re- 
spect of  Thee,  and  verily  every  man  liveth  is  alto- 
gether vanity." 

Then  the  choir  continued :  — 

"  For  man  walketh  in  a  vain  shadow  ...  he 
heapeth  up  riches  and  cannot  tell  who  shall  gather 
them." 

Through  the  service  Edythe  had  not  risen  from 
her  knees.  She  could  feel  about  her  the  warm, 
tender  little  arms  of  the  child  Consuelo,  who  was 
nestling  beside  her.  She  put  an  arm  about  Con- 
suelo and  drew  her  closer. 

Dr.  Mcllvaine  had  taken  his  place  at  the  desk 
and  was  reading  the  appointed  lesson  for  the  day. 

"  For  as  in  Adam  all  die,  even  so  in  Christ  shall 
all  be  made  alive.  But  every  man  in  his  own 
order.  Christ  the  first  fruits  :  afterward  they  that 
are  Christ's  at  His  coming.  .  .  .  All  flesh  is  not 
the  same  flesh.  .  .  .  There  are  also  celestial  bod- 
ies and  bodies  terrestrial,  but  the  glory  of  the  celes- 
tial is  one  and  the  glory  of  the  terrestrial  is  another. 
There  is  one  glory  of  the  sun  and  another  glory  of 
the  moon  and  another  glory  of  the  stars,  for  one 
star  diff ereth  from  another  star  in  glory.  So,  also, 
is  the  resurrection  of  the  dead." 


THE  HARBOUR  ENTRANCE       263 

Dr.  Mcllvaine  had  read  in  his  time  many 
services  for  the  dead,  for  the  old  and  the  young. 
He  had  preceded  many  a  child's  body  up  the  aisle 
of  his  church,  comforting  the  afflicted  with  the 
immortal  words  of  Christ,  "  I  am  the  resurrection 
and  the  life."  His  voice  had  been  silenced  often 
by  the  sorrow  of  the  stricken  parents ;  but  none  of 
them  had  come  so  near  to  his  own  heart  as  the  father 
of  the  child  who  had  just  been  gathered  to  Christ's 
kingdom,  and  whose  body  lay  in  the  small  white 
coffin  before  him.  It  looked  to  him,  from  where 
he  stood,  more  like  a  jewel  box  hidden  away 
among  the  flowers.  At  times  in  the  course  of  the 
lesson  he  was  interrupted  by  sobbing  in  the 
church.  It  was  not  unlike  a  mother's  sorrow,  he 
thought,  but  he  knew  that  no  grief  was  so  great 
as  the  young  man's  who  sat  in  the  front  pew 
between  two  small,  white-faced  children,  who 
looked  as  if  death  had  dealt  heavily  with  them. 
Dr.  Mcllvaine  noticed  that  Mr.  Merrall's  mother 
quieted  them  several  times  during  the  service. 
Through  it  all  Mr.  Merrall  had  kept  strangely 
calm,  but  when  it  came  to  the  last  part  of  the 
lesson,  he  saw  that  it  was  with  great  difficulty  that 
he  kept  back  the  tears.  He  leaned  forward  and 
rested  one  hand  heavily  on  the  front  of  the  pew, 


264  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

and  he  saw  that  his  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  casket 
before  him.  Perhaps  that  message  of  faith 
brought  him  some  relief,  some  comfort  perhaps, 
for  after  a  moment  he  leaned  back  again  in  the 
pew. 

"  We  shall  not  all  sleep,"  Dr.  Mcllvaine  read, 
"  but  we  shall  all  be  changed,  in  a  moment,  in  the 
twinkling  of  an  eye  at  the  last  trump.  .  .  .  And 
this  mortal  shall  put  on  immortality.  .  .  .  Then 
shall  be  brought  to  pass  the  saying,  O  death, 
where  is  thy  sting,  O  grave,  where  is  thy  victory?" 

When  Dr.  Mcllvaine  had  finished  with  the 
lesson,  there  was  a  hush  throughout  the  church, 
but  only  for  a  moment.  The  boy  soloist  stepped 
out  again  from  the  choir  seats,  and  the  organ  com- 
menced "Abide  with  me."  Clearly  and  heavenly 
the  boy's  voice  rang  out :  — 

"  Where  is  death's  sting,  where,  grave,  thy  victory  ? 
I  triumph  still  if  Thou  abide  with  me. 
Hold  Thou  Thy  cross  before  my  closing  eyes, 
Shine  through  the  gloom,  and  point  me  to  the  skies. 
Heaven's  morning  breaks,  and  earth's  vain  shadows  flee 
In  life,  in  death,  O  Lord,  abide  with  me." 

When  the  final  words  of  the  hymn  had  died 
away,  Dr.  Mcllvaine  came  down  the  chancel  steps 
and  continued  with  the  service. 


THE  HARBOUR  ENTRANCE       265 

"  Man  that  is  born  of  a  woman  hath  but  a  short 
time  to  live.  He  cometh  up  and  is  cut  down  like  a 
flower.  He  fleeth  as  it  were  a  shadow,  and  never 
continueth  in  one  stay.  In  the  midst  of  life  we 
are  in  death,"  he  read  from  the  open  book  in  his 
hand. 

Mr.  Merrall  was  calmer  now.  Perhaps  he  was 
thinking  of  the  boy's  mother,  whose  place  was 
with  her  children.  It  would  have  been  a  great 
comfort  to  him  had  he  known  that  she  was  pres- 
ent, if  not  with  them,  and  that  her  grief  was  even 
greater  than  his  own.  He  had  written  to  her  only 
that  morning  begging  her  to  be  seen  at  the  service 
with  her  children.  He  realized,  and  deeply  too, 
that  his  letters  had  long  ceased  to  have  any  weight 
with  her,  yet  he  remembered  with  what  tenderness 
she  held  Maurice  in  her  arms  when  he  was  dying, 
and  her  words  of  consolation  to  him  that  there 
were  many,  many  little  boys  in  heaven  just  his 
age,  nor  could  he  forget  her  silent  but  unmistak- 
able grief  when  she  saw  that  he  was  dead,  or  the 
kiss  when  she  left  him. 

But  the  service  was  over.  The  pallbearers  took 
up  the  coffin  again  and  carried  it  slowly  down  the 
aisle.  The  heart  of  roses  from  the  boy's  mother 
rested  on  the  coffin  lid  above  the  silent  heart 


where  Mr.  Merrall  had  himself  placed  it.  Edythe 
did  not  notice  it  though  as  it  passed  by,  for  she 
was  praying,  nor  did  she  feel  the  hand  of  her 
youngest  boy  as  he  stopped  for  a  moment  at  the 
pew  at  seeing  her,  and  not  being  noticed  walked 
bravely  on  with  his  brother. 

She  rose  now  to  pass  out.  Some  moments  had 
passed,  and  a  few  of  the  first  carriages  had  already 
started  on  their  journey  to  Greenwood.  As  she 
reached  the  door,  she  paused  as  if  stricken  on  the 
steps.  The  hearse  was  still  within  sight  of  the 
church.  Consuelo  put  her  hand  tenderly  in  hers, 
and  there  was  comfort  in  the  touch,  and  Maurice's 
words  came  to  her,  as  he  passed  from  her  sight, 
"  But  God  will  wash  away  the  sins  of  the  world." 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 
WHEN   ONLY  THE  ANGELS   KNOW 

LONSPETTI  paused  on  the  threshold  of  the 
studio.  The  door  was  ajar,  and  from  where  he 
stood  he  could  see  the  only  occupants  of  the 
studio :  Edythe,  who  was  at  work  on  a  picture, 
and  the  child  Consuelo,  who  was  sitting  near 
her.  Presently  the  child's  voice  broke  the  silence. 
"  You  haven't  told  me,  dearest,  whether  you  ever 
expect  Mr.  Courtney  home  again." 

"  Because  only  the  angels  know,"  came  the 
reply. 

"  Grandmere  always  says  that  when  she  wants 
to  evade  an  answer,"  sighed  the  child.  "  I  asked 
her  last  night  if  I  was  ever  to  see  my  dear  father 
again,  and  she  gave  me  that  same  reply,  '  Only 
the  angels  know.'  "  Edythe  looked  up  from  her 
work.  "  You're  a  strange  little  problem,  Con- 
suelo dear,"  she  said.  "You  have  a  wonderful 
brain  for  such  a  small  girl." 

267 


268  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

Consuelo  smiled,  and  she  was  still  showing  all 
her  pretty  dimples  when  Lonspetti  greeted  them. 

"  What  do  the  angels  know,  dear  ?  "  the  Signer 
laughed,  as  he  took  her  up  in  his  strong  arms 
and  kissed  her. 

"They  must  know  everything,"  she  said,  try- 
ing her  best  to  get  away. 

The  Signor  laughed  again,  then  he  turned  to 
the  picture  Edythe  was  at  work  on. 

"  I  thought  you  were  painting  a  portrait  of 
Consuelo,"  he  said,  as  he  looked  at  it,  "but  it 
seems  not." 

"  No,  not  her  portrait  exactly,  though  she  is 
posing  for  the  child  in  the  picture."  She  moved 
her  chair  a  little  so  that  Lonspetti  could  see  it 
better.  The  child  came  and  nestled  her  small 
head  against  Edythe. 

"  I  should  imagine  that  it  would  be  an  odd 
picture  when  it  is  finished,"  the  Signor  said  slowly. 
"  I  can't  quite  understand  the  idea  it  embodies." 

"Then  you  don't  know  who  the  child  is?" 
she  questioned. 

Lonspetti  shook  his  head. 

"  It  is  the  master  of  mankind,"  Edythe  said 
after  a  moment. 

"  You   mean   the   child  is  Death  ? "    said  Lon- 


WHEN   ONLY  THE   ANGELS   KNOW        269 

spetti.  He  stepped  back  that  he  might  see  the 
picture  to  a  better  advantage.  It  was  a  large 
canvas  and  pictured  the  scene  of  an  attic,  low 
storied  and  comfortless.  As  if  by  the  light  that 
came  in  through  the  broken  pane  of  the  garret 
window,  an  old  woman's  face  and  form  could 
be  distinguished  on  the  low  pallet  beside  it. 
When  one  studied  it  better,  it  was  seen  that  the 
woman  was  dying;  but  there  were  other  figures 
to  be  unveiled  in  the  picture.  Edythe  did  not 
have  to  tell  Lonspetti  who  the  woman  was  that 
was  standing  on  the  threshold  of  the  attic,  but 
whose  eyes  still  wandered  toward  the  dying 
woman  as  if  she  was  reluctant  to  leave  her,  for 
the  figure  was  Poverty.  There  was  a  pathetic 
weariness  in  her  face  as  if  Wealth  and  Death 
together  had  robbed  her  of  many  of  her  subjects. 
Wealth  and  Death  were  strangely  different  cav- 
aliers. Wealth  was  fickle.  There  was  hope  in 
her  face  when  only  Fortune  charmed  her  sub- 
jects away  from  her  —  with  Death  it  was  differ- 
ent. Death  is  constant. 

"You  like  my  picture,  do  you  not,  Signer?" 
Edythe  asked,  breaking  the  silence  which  was 
becoming  impressive;  but  Lonspetti  did  not 
answer,  and  she  repeated  the  question. 


2/0  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

"Yes,  in  a  way,"  he  replied,  "and  again,  no. 
I  can't  say  that  I  like  the  expression  of  Poverty's 
face.  It  is  inclined  to  be  strong,  and  yet  there 
is  some  craftiness  about  the  mouth ;  but  perhaps 
you  didn't  intend  that  to  be  so." 

"  Poverty  is  crafty,"  said  Edythe.  "  The  valley 
of  tragedy  is  but  a  prison  of  despair.  You 
know  the  old  proverb,  do  you  not,  that  those 
who  partake  of  poverty  in  this  world  and  taste 
of  her  craftiness  forego  purgatory  hereafter, 
since  they  have  atoned  for  their  sins  on  earth  ? " 

"  But  the  poor  are  ofttimes  happier  than  the 
rich,"  sighed  the  Signer,  as  he  turned  to  the  pic- 
ture again.  "To  my  mind,"  he  said,  "the  figure 
advancing  toward  the  woman  is  the  best.  The 
flowers  she  brings  I  fancy  signify  that  she  is 
Happiness  ? " 

"  No,  Youth,"  replied  Edythe.  "  Death  always 
brings  Youth  when  he  comes,  unless  he  finds  it 
already  before  him.  Although  Death  is  always 
pictured  to  us  as  an  aged  reaper,  I  have  always 
thought  of  him  as  a  child,  since  Age  has  no  juris- 
diction over  Death;  then,  too,  the  man  with  the 
scythe  is  Father  Time,  —  a  creature  only  of  the 
earth." 

"Then   the   child   at   the   dying  woman's   side 


WHEN   ONLY   THE  ANGELS   KNOW        2/1 

is  your  idea  of  death  ?  "  queried  Lonspetti.  "  It 
seems  to  me  that  as  far  as  you  have  completed 
it,  the  figure  looks  more  like  the  pictures  we 
know  of  the  Christ  Child." 

"  Death  may  be  Christ,  for  all  we  mortals 
know,"  Edythe  said;  "but  then  I  am  only 
painting  the  picture  as  the  inspiration  and  thought 
of  the  moment  moves  me.  If  you  notice,"  she 
said,  "where  the  child's  hand  rests  on  the 
woman's  wrinkled  one  a  change  has  already 
come  over  that  side  of  her  face."  Lonspetti 
bent  closer.  "  It  is  hardly  perceptible  as  yet," 
Edythe  continued;  "but  when  her  face  is  fin- 
ished, the  change  will  be  more  noticeable.  The 
touch  of  Death  is  restoring  youth  to  her  as  she 
passes  out,  and  as  Madame  said  when  she  saw 
the  picture  yesterday,  'Youth  is  Death's  crown 
for  a  long  service.' " 

"  A  well-earned  one,"  sighed  the  Signer. 

He  turned,  for  the  door  had  opened  and 
Madame  stood  before  them.  Consuelo  was  in 
her  arms  before  any  one  heard  her. 

"  I've  just  received  great  news  from  Clare,"  she 
said,  as  she  held  up  a  letter. 

"I  can  guess  what  it  is,"  Consuelo  cried  joy- 
ously, "  can't  I,  grandmere  ? " 


2/2  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

"  Imagination  often  forces  us  to  a  wrong  con- 
clusion," answered  Madame ;  "  therefore  I  beg  of 
thee,  Consuelo,  to  be  less  hasty  in  thy  answer." 
Consuelo  smiled  and  remained  silent. 

"  I  fancy  we  all  can  guess  the  news  you  bring 
us,"  Edythe  said,  rising.  "  I  suppose  it  is  her  en- 
gagement to  Mr.  Baring."  There  was  sadness 
in  her  voice  as  she  spoke,  and  Lonspetti  noticed  it. 

"  You  don't  know  what  a  fine  fellow  Baring  is," 
he  interrupted,  as  he  rose  to  give  Madame  his 
chair.  "  I  think  she  should  be  considered  a  very 
lucky  girl." 

"From  the  man's  point  of  view,  of  course," 
Edythe  replied.  "  From  the  woman's,  the  man 
is  the  one  to  be  congratulated.  As  for  Clare,  I 
am  sorry." 

"Never,  if  you  should  see  Baring,"  the  Signer 
said,  with  more  than  usual  animation.  "  He's  a 
sterling  fellow  and  has  a  great  career  before  him." 

"And  lots  of  money,"  added  Madame,  "which 
is  the  greatest  thing  we  can  say  in  his  favour." 

Edythe  laughed  lightly.  "  I  should  call  it  the 
least  important,  especially  if  he's  ambitious.  Am- 
bition and  wealth  ought  to  be  wonderful  friends, 
but  they  are  not.  To  my  mind,  genius  is  de- 
veloped only  through  necessity,  rarely  through 


WHEN   ONLY  THE   ANGELS   KNOW        273 

riches.  As  for  Clare,  she  is  young  and  talented. 
By  marrying  she  is  making  the  same  mistake  I 
did,  and  just  as  she  is  reaching  the  goal  she  has 
been  striving  for." 

"  But  I  doubt  if  she  gives  up  her  music," 
Madame  reassured ;  for  she  saw  how  the  news  of 
Clare's  engagement  was  troubling  her. 

"She  ought  not  to  do  so,  but  she  will,"  Edythe 
said.  "If  Mr.  Baring  is  the  wealthy  and  impor- 
tant man  he  is  reputed  to  be,  he  won't  want  his 
wife  on  the  operatic  stage.  Clare  is  young,  and 
the  future  looks  bright  to  her,  no  matter  how  she 
looks  at  it." 

"  She  has  a  very  hopeful  disposition,"  the  Sig- 
nor  said,  "  naturally  she  thinks  little  of  the  clouds 
that  may  or  may  not  cross  her  life.  For  a  girl  of 
her  age  she  has  been  singularly  fortunate,  and  I 
don't  think  she  has  ever  worked  very  hard  for  it 
either." 

"For  the  simple  reason,"  Madame  interrupted, 
"  that  her  sisters  have  paid  for  her  musical  educa- 
tion and  paved  her  way,  as  it  were,  to  the  goal  of 
her  ambition.  While,  as  Edythe  most  rightly  said, 
wealth  may  be  a  hindrance  to  ambition,  a  little 
ready  money  now  and  then  is  no  drawback." 

"  If    she    had    only    made    something    of    it," 


2/4  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

Edythe  sighed.  "  How  often  Clare  has  told  me 
that  she  would  never  marry  until  she  had  made  a 
name  for  herself  in  the  operatic  world." 

"  Then  you  would  have  her  remain  slave-bound 
to  her  profession  and  give  up  love  because  of  it  — 
love  which  is  more  to  her  than  her  career  can 
ever  be,  or  has  ever  been.  Ah,  no,  you  wouldn't." 
Lonspetti's  voice  grew  eloquent  in  its  pleading. 
Tears  sprang  to  his  eyes,  and  he  did  not  try  to 
check  them. 

"  After  all,"  he  said,  "  love  is  the  mutual  attrac- 
tion of  souls  which  have  found  each  other." 


CHAPTER   XXXIV 
THE   HEART   OF   CONSUELO 

"  WHY  so  lost  in  the  vale  of  solitude,  Signer  ? " 
It  was  Madame  who  had  put  the  question,  but 
there  were  several  who  looked  up  for  his  answer. 
—  Edythe,  Raff aelli,  Dorothy,  and  the  petite  Con- 
suelo.  It  is  doubtful  if  Lonspetti  realized  that 
Madame  was  addressing  him,  for  he  continued 
with  his  revery. 

They  were  all  seated  at  a  corner  table  in  the 
little  French  restaurant,  and  now  two  courses  had 
been  served  and  removed  without  arousing  the 
Signer's  attention.  Madame  put  the  question  a 
second  time,  and  this  time  aroused  Lonspetti. 
When  he  looked  up  he  found  them  all  smiling 
but  Edythe  and  Consuelo. 

"  I  must  have  been  dreaming,"  he  said  slowly. 
"  I  can't  tell  what  made  me  so  forget  myself." 

"  There  is  no  apology  needed,"  laughed  Madame. 
"  We  were  only  tormenting  you.  You  probably 
275 


2/6  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

think  as  I  do  that  it  is  the  privilege  of  the  poor  to 
dream,  the  rich  to  sleep."  Lonspetti  smiled. 

"  I  used  to  be  quite  a  dreamer  in  my  youth," 
continued  Madame ;  "  but  necessity  prodded  me 
with  her  steel  one  well-remembered  day,  and  I've 
never  had  a  chance  to  finish  my  dream." 

"  It's  the  only  consolation  I  have,"  the  Signor 
said  quietly,  "  the  only  one.  In  them  I  can  at 
least  forget  some  of  the  tragedies  of  my  exist- 
ence." 

"  But  they  bespeak  not  of  progress  or  in  fact 
any  enlightenment,"  Madame  ventured ;  "  and  you 
are  a  man  with  an  art  like  a  child  to  push  on. 
If  you  insist  on  spending  half  of  your  time  seated 
by  the  roadside  dreaming,  the  probabilities  are 
that  your  work  is  standing  still  beside  you.  It  is 
always  well  to  remember  that  whenever  you  are 
resting,  your  work  is  doing  the  same  thing." 

"But,  Madame,"  interrupted  Raffaelli,  "what 
of  the  innumerable  army  of  the  employed  whose 
sole  duty  in  life  is  to  carry  on  the  business  of 
others,  the  work  of  others  who  may  be  resting  ? " 

"The  work  belongs  to  the  man  who  does  it," 
quickly  replied  Madame.  "When  your  yoke  is 
put  about  another's  neck,  it  ceases  to  be  your 
yoke.  No  matter  who  gets  the  credit.  As  I 


THE   HEART   OF  CONSUELO  277 

have  always  said  to  Emma,  who  is  ever  disputing 
it,  the  fame  of  one's  work  may  live,  but  the  work 
itself  lives  and  dies  with  the  worker.  When  the 
sower  ceases  reaping  —  " 

"  To  listen  to  the  birds,"  said  a  voice. 

Madame  started.  It  was  Emma  Marie  who 
had  interrupted  her.  "  I  thought  I'd  find  you 
here,"  she  laughed  as  she  took  the  chair  the 
waiter  had  brought  her  and  placed  it  near  Con- 
suelo.  "  I  only  got  in  from  Boston  half  an  hour 
ago." 

"  Supperless,  I'll  wager,"  ventured  RafTaellL 

"  Indeed,  no ;  I  never  take  chances  with  the 
future  when  opportunity  offers  anything  in  the 
present.  There's  too  much  at  stake." 

"  And  what  luck  at  Boston  ?  "  queried  Dorothy. 

"  Don't  say  luck,"  said  Madame.  "  I  always 
ask  at  what  turn  in  the  road  did  misfortune  over- 
take you.  So  long  as  she  peddles  operas,  For- 
tune will  keep  her  face  turned  away." 

Emma  Marie  laughed,  and  merrily.  "  I  know 
the  good  madam  well,"  she  replied,  "but  as  to 
Dame  Fortune,  well,  she  sometimes  condescends 
to  smile." 

"  And  the  luck  at  Boston  ? "  again  queried 
Dorothy. 


278  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

"  A  game  of  trumps  and  mine  all  the  way 
through.  Not  a  poor  card  in  the  pack."  Con- 
suelo  leaned  against  her  mother  confidingly,  and 
smiled.  Edythe  watched  her  and  when  she 
turned  to  Lonspetti  she  found  that  he  was  look- 
ing at  her,  too.  It  was  evident  that  she  was 
proud  of  her  mother. 

"When  I  reached  Boston,"  Emma  continued, 
"I  found  the  managers  there  dead  against  the 
whole  scheme;  in  fact,  I  wasn't  so  sure  that  I 
was  going  to  win  a  hearing  at  all,  let  alone  an 
opening ;  but  when  they  saw  that  I  was  after 
game,  and  not  easily  overthrown,  one  of  them 
consented  to  talk  the  scheme  over.  The  result 
is  an  opening,  three  weeks  from  to-morrow,  for 
a  ten  weeks'  engagement." 

Consuelo  jumped  up  from  her  chair  and  threw 
both  arms  around  her  mother's  neck.  "  I  knew 
you'd  get  it,  I  just  knew  it,"  she  exclaimed. 

"  How,  my  precious  ? "  laughed  Edythe,  "  you're 
a  witch." 

"Professor  Tellano  told  me  so  the  day  my 
mother  left  for  Boston.  I  asked  him  to  please 
consult  the  stars  and  tell  me." 

Whether  it  was  the  innocence  or  enthusiasm 
of  the  child,  or  the  drollery  of  her  remark,  no 


THE   HEART   OF  CONSUELO  279 

one  could  decipher.  For  several  moments  every 
one,  even  Lonspetti,  was  laughing.  Consuelo 
hid  her  face  on  her  mother's  shoulder  and  amid 
her  blushes  smiled  with  joy. 

"  I  shall  never  forget,"  said  Raffaelli,  "  the 
solemnity  with  which  she  said,  '  I  asked  the  pro- 
fessor to  consult  the  stars.' " 

Madame  regarded  the  child  with  interest 
"  She  consults  the  professor  on  every  occasion," 
she  said,  "  and  on  every  conceivable  subject ;  in 
fact,  I  think  she  is  his  most  devoted  disciple." 
Consuelo  blushed  again. 

"  I  am  quite  sure  it's  a  case  of  mutual  attrac- 
tion," Raffaelli  said,  but  with  all  seriousness,  for 
Consuelo  was  watching  him. 

"  Decidedly  so,"  replied  Madame.  "  It's  quite 
amusing  to  watch  the  two  studying  great  maps 
of  stars.  I  hoped  that  in  Emma  I  had  the  only 
star-gazer  in  the  immediate  family,  but  it  seems 
not." 

"  My  mother  doesn't  know  anything  about 
astrology,  grandmere,  —  do  you,  mother  ? " 

Emma  tightened  her  arms  about  the  child  and 
laughed  at  her. 

"  For  a  girl  of  seven  she's  the  brightest  little 
body  stirring  in  this  big  world  of  ours.  I  know 


280  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

I  ought  not  to  tell  her  so,  and  I  suppose  I  ought 
not  to  say  it  because  I'm  her  mother;  but  she's 
the  smartest  all-around  little  girl  of  her  size  that 
ever  lived.  Let's  give  her  a  toast." 

The  waiter  had  filled  the  glasses,  and  the  two 
gentlemen  at  the  table,  Lonspetti  and  Raffaelli, 
were  standing. 

"  Here's  to  her  serene  highness,"  Lonspetti 
cried,  "the  Princess  Consuelo.  May  she  always 
find  fortune  in  the  stars." 

"  And  my  toast,  second  and  last,"  said  Madame, 
rising.  "To  her  health  and  ambitions,  and  may 
she  always  have  a  fortune  in  the  bank." 

"  I'll  have  it  in  the  bank  all  right,"  chimed 
Consuelo,  when  they  were  again  seated,  "for  I'm 
going  to  marry  a  very,  very  rich  man  when  I've 
grown  up." 

"  I  thought  it  was  a  clergyman,  the  last  time," 
said  Lonspetti,  "  and  priests  as  a  general  rule 
are  not  rich." 

It  was  Madame  only  who  noticed  the  look  of 
distress  cross  Edythe's  face  as  the  reference  to 
clergymen  was  made;  but  it  passed  away  after 
a  moment,  even  before  the  child  had  had  time  to 
answer.  Consuelo  was  plainly  discomfited  by  the 
Signer's  question. 


THE   HEART  OF  CONSUELO  281 

"  Yes,  I  did  think  once  I  might  marry  a  clergy- 
man," she  replied;  "but  that  was  before  Mr. 
Courtney  went  away  and  left  me." 

"  And  who  is  Mr.  Courtney,  may  I  ask  ? "  inter- 
rupted Raffaelli.  "  Is  he  the  clergyman  who  has 
made  this  very  young  woman  think  ill  of  the 
profession  ? " 

"It  seems  so,  doesn't  it  ? "  Madame  answered 
for  her. 

"  He  was  the  young  man  for  whom  I  was 
overthrown,"  added  the  Signor.  "  Mr.  Courtney 
was  my  great  rival  for  the  heart  of  Consuelo." 

The  child  blushed  furiously.  "  But  you  didn't 
hate  him  as  the  rivals  in  the  books  do,"  she 
said  na'fvely.  "  They  are  always,  always  fighting 
duels." 

"The  Signor  and  Mr.  Courtney  were  too  good 
friends  to  let  a  woman's  heart  come  between 
them,"  Edythe  said  quietly.  ("The  love  of  man 
for  man  I  hold  above  the  love  of  man  for 
woman.  It  is  more  steadfast,  more  unselfish, 
more  what  love  should  be.'y 

"  A  woman's  heart  is  worth  any  sacrifice," 
Lonspetti  said  gravely,  interrupting  her.  "  The 
love  of  a  good  woman's  heart  is  above  price, 
and  worth  death  to  win." 


282  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

Consuelo  grew  wistful.  Those  at  the  table  saw 
that  his  eyes  rested  upon  Edythe  when  he  spoke, 
and  perhaps  she  realized  it,  for  she  did  not  let 
her  eyes  meet  his. 

"  The  game  of  hearts  is  a  pretty  enough  game 
to  play,"  said  Madame,  "  when  both  players  play 
unmasked,  though  in  the  majority  of  cases  the 
woman  is  the  only  one  blindfolded,  and  she 
fears  to  take  the  mask  off  lest  she  break  the 
spell." 

"  I  see  you  don't  believe  in  marriage  based 
upon  mutual  affection,"  said  Raffaelli.  "  You  con- 
sider it  a  rather  one-sided  victory  either  for  the 
man  or  the  woman." 

"  Exactly,"  responded  Madame,  and  she  spoke 
with  decision.  "  I  think  with  Balzac  that  love 
is  a  game  at  which  one  always  cheats.  One  is 
playing  for  a  heart,  and  is  playing  fair,  and  the 
other  is  watching  another  stake,  money,  title, 
protection,  or  position.  No  two  players  look  to 
the  same  stake.  In  love  as  in  everything  else 
one  always  plays  with  the  mask  off,  and  wins 
by  watching  the  other's  cards." 

Lonspetti  put  out  his  hand  as  if  to  interrupt 
her,  but  he  let  it  fall  again  without  speaking. 
Perhaps  —  who  knows  ?  —  Raffaelli  understood  the 


THE   HEART   OF   CONSUELO  283 

tragedy  pictured  in  Lonspetti's  face,  for  he  inter- 
rupted the  conversation  by  rising  to  give  another 
toast. 

"The  good-night  benediction,"  he  said  slowly, 
as  the  others  rose  with  him.  "  To  our  sweethearts 
—  wives  of  to-morrow  —  but  sweethearts  always." 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

LONSPETTI'S   HOUR 
"  There  is  an  hour  in  each  man's  life  appointed." 

IT  was  noted  as  a  peculiar  coincidence  that  in 
the  same  day's  papers  the  following  fall  with 
the  announcement  of  Clare  Barattoni's  marriage 
to  the  Hon.  Clarence  Baring,  M.P.,  of  Bar- 
ing Hall,  Surrey,  England,  was  the  report  of 
Edythe's  divorce  from  Mr.  Merrall.  Mrs. 
Merrall  had  asked  for  it,  and  as  far  as  society 
knew  to  the  contrary  it  had  been  granted  with 
no  opposition  on  the  part  of  the  defendant. 
The  case  was  not  made  public;  and  while  the 
charge  was  said  to  have  been  based  upon  deser- 
tion, no  particulars  were  given  out  by  the  lawyers 
on  either  side.  The  action  had  been  expected  for 
some  time,  but  when  it  did  come  it  was  a  dis- 
appointment. There  were  some  who  declared 
Mr.  Merrall  would  oppose  the  suit;  there  were 
others  who  prophesied  that  Mrs.  Merrall  would 
ask  for  her  children.  There  were  again  those 

284 


LONSPETTTS   HOUR  285 

more  advanced  and  worldly  gossips  who  expected 
a  sensational  and  long-fought-out  suit ;  and  when 
the  case  did  come  up,  and  was  apparently  set- 
tled to  the  satisfaction  of  the  only  two  persons 
directly  concerned,  society  met  with  an  unlooked- 
for  disappointment.  Whatever  differences  there 
were  between  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Merrall  were  not 
given  the  public;  the  children  remained  with 
their  father,  in  accordance,  it  was  said,  with  their 
mother's  expressed  wish. 

If  there  was  one  person  to  whom  the  news 
came  with  a  feeling  of  gladness,  it  was  the  Signor 
Lonspetti.  He  was  down  town  in  New  York, 
in  the  newspaper  section  of  the  city,  when  the 
bulletins  announcing  Edythe's  divorce  were  put 
up.  When  her  divorce  had  been  talked  of  at  the 
time  of  her  separation  from  Mr.  Merrall,  there 
were  some  who  associated  her  name  with  that  of 
Mr.  Courtney,  especially  when  he  resigned  his 
charge  at  Calvary  Church;  but  now  that  a  year 
or  more  had  passed  and  Mr.  Courtney  remained 
abroad,  the  story  lost  credence  and  interest.  For 
some  time  Mr.  Courtney  was  expected  to  return 
to  his  work,  and  it  had  been  only  a  short  time 
since  his  return  was  given  up.  When  people 
inquired  for  him  of  Dr.  Mcllvaine,  they  were  in- 


286  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

formed  of  his  decision  to  make  his  home  abroad, 
and  to  devote  his  time  to  writing  rather  than 
preaching.  Lonspetti  had  forgotten  the  early 
association  of  Edythe's  name  with  Mr.  Courtney's 
until  one  of  the  afternoon  papers,  for  want  of 
particulars  bearing  on  the  divorce,  recalled  that 
bit  of  gossip  in  lieu  of  later  news.  Lonspetti 
smiled  as  he  read  it.  As  far  as  he  had  ever 
given  it  thought  there  had  never  been  any  truth 
in  the  assertion.  The  more  he  thought  of  the 
news  he  had  just  heard  the  greater  grew  his 
desire  to  reach  Edythe,  and  to  ask  her  to  be  his 
wife.  She  had  been  in  Canada  for  the  past  two 
months,  but  Madame  Marie  had  told  him  that 
morning  she  was  expected  home  the  day  the 
decree  was  granted.  And  that  was  to-day,  and 
she  was  free.  As  he  thought  of  it  he  felt  as  he 
did  when  he  had  youth  at  his  command.  "The 
glorious  springtime  of  youth,"  his  heart  was 
singing  within  him.  It  seemed  to  him  in  his 
enthusiasm  that  he  could  again  feel  it  coursing 
through  his  veins.  He  could  not  remember  when 
he  had  felt  so  happy  as  he  did  that  day.  To  all 
of  us  sometime,  either  early  or  late,  comes  the 
great  hour  of  our  life,  the  hour  to  which  all 
other  time  is  as  nothing  in  comparison :  and  such 


LONSPETTTS   HOUR  287 

was  the  hour  Lonspetti  knew  had  come  to  him. 
There  is  a  superstition  that  when  Fortune  changes 
the  thread  upon  her  wheel,  she  seals,  a  human 
verdict,  be  it  good  or  ill.  The  thought  did  not 
occur  to  the  Signer  that  Edythe  might  not  wish 
to  marry  so  soon  after  her  divorce.  He  had 
waited  so  long  for  her  that  his  hope  had  grown 
into  impatience,  and  now  that  she  was  free,  he 
felt  he  could  wait  no  longer  for  her. 

But  she  was  out  when  he  reached  the  studio. 
"  Every  one  was  down  at  Madame  Marie's,"  so 
the  janitor  told  him,  having  a  little  merrymaking 
in  honour  of  Clare's  marriage.  "  Clare's  wedding," 
and  he  had  forgotten  it  in  his  own  happiness. 
For  the  time  being  he  had  forgotten  that  destiny 
is  shaping  and  changing  other  lives  than  our 
own.  He  remembered  now  that  Madame  had 
invited  him  there  that  evening,  and  he  had 
accepted,  only  to  forget  it.  Still,  it  was  early ; 
he  would  be  in  time  even  now. 

They  were  at  supper  when  he  reached  there, 
and  some  one  was  proposing  the  long  life  and 
happiness  of  the  far-away  bride.  Consuelo,  it 
seemed,  was  carried  away  with  the  excitement  of 
the  event,  and  when  Lonspetti  entered  she  was 
standing  up  in  her  chair  waving,  to  the  great 


288  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

amusement  of  those  about  her,  a  good-sized  Eng- 
lish flag.  She  jumped  down  at  seeing  Lon- 
spetti  and  threw  herself  in  his  arms.  "  Three 
cheers  for  a  friend  of  the  bride,"  she  cried  in 
her  enthusiasm.  Lonspetti  laughed  and  found 
the  place  kept  for  him  by  the  side  of  Edythe. 

"  You  would  have  supposed  you  were  the 
bridegroom,"  said  Madame,  "  from  the  way 
Consuelo  greeted  you.  I  confess  this  wedding 
has  quite  turned  her  head." 

"  I  suggest  that  we  send  her  a  cablegram  of 
congratulations,"  interrupted  Consuelo,  who  would 
not  be  silenced. 

"  To  give  the  impression  that  we  had  long  ago 
relegated  her  to  the  ranks  of  spinsterhood,"  said 
Edythe,  and  the  child  smiled.  "  However,  we 
have  already  cabled  our  good  wishes  to  them 
both." 

Lonspetti  noticed  that  Edythe  looked  uncom- 
monly happy.  It  was  plainly  evident  that  she 
was  proud  of  her  sister's  marriage.  "  I  don't 
know  him,  but  I'm  going  to  like  him,"  she  said 
brightly  when  Ghleska  spoke  of  him.  "At  one 
time  I  was  opposed  to  Clare's  marrying  and  giv- 
ing up  her  work,  but  now  I  have  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  a  happy  marriage  is  worth  the 


LONSPETTTS   HOUR  289 

destruction  of  fifty  brilliant  careers,  bring  what 
they  may." 

"  Three  cheers  and  a  world  of  future  happiness 
for  Edythe  Barattoni,"  cried  Ghleska,  rising. 

Edythe  rose  and  bowed. 

"  She  deserves  everything  fortune  can  give 
her,"  said  Madame,  "which  includes,  first  of  all, 
the  man  who  loves  her." 

Edythe  blushed  faintly  and  smiled. 

"  I  beg  you  will  accept  my  congratulations  upon 
your  freedom,"  ventured  Lonspetti.  "  I  never 
felt  so  happy  in  my  life  as  when  I  heard  of  it." 

Edythe  turned  to  him  and  smiled.  "You  are 
always  good  to  think  of  me,"  she  said ;  "  but  in 
this  case  I  feel  that  Mr.  Merrall  is  the  one  to 
be  congratulated.  I  have  stood  in  his  light  so 
long." 

"  You  are  generous,"  the  Signer  said  slowly. 

"  No,  selfish  always,  Signor,"  was  the  reply, 
"never  generous."  As  she  spoke  she  raised  her 
eyes  to  his,  and  it  seemed  to  him  as  if  the  woman 
had  grown  more  beautiful  than  the  girl  he  had 
first  known  ;  that  the  sorrows  she  had  known  had 
only  heightened,  not  saddened,  the  azure  of  her 
eyes.  She  appeared  brighter  and  more  animated 
than  he  had  seen  her  since  her  marriage.  She 


290  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

was  dressed  very  plainly  in  black  that  night,  yet 
she  wore  it  with  all  the  charm  of  an  elaborate 
dinner  dress.  When  she  laughed  that  night  it 
was  with  the  old-time  inflection  and  merriment, 
and  even  Madame  spoke  of  it.  Supper  was  over 
now,  and  Edythe  had  gone  to  get  her  hat. 

"I  am  going  home  early,  Madame,"  she  apolo- 
gized as  she  did  so,  "  because  I  am  tired " ;  then 
turning  to  the  Signer  she  added,  "  I  only  arrived 
home  from  Canada  at  three  this  afternoon ;  do  you 
wonder  I'm  weary  ? " 

"  Not  at  all ;  but  as  I'm  going  home  with  you, 
I  shall  have  a  chance  of  hearing  all  about  your 
trip." 

Edythe  assented. 

"Wait  just  a  moment,"  he  said,  "until  I  can 
call  a  carriage." 

"  But  I  prefer  walking,"  she  interrupted. 

"  When  you  are  so  tired  ? " 

"  Yes,  even  so,"  she  replied ;  "  it  is  only  a  few 
blocks,  and  I  feel  in  the  mood  for  it." 

"  You  feel  happy  to-night,"  he  said,  as  he  joined 
her. 

She  glanced  up  quickly.  "  I  never  felt  much 
happier  in  my  life,"  she  replied. 

"  Nor  I,"  said  the  Signor. 


LONSPETTTS   HOUR  291 

"  But  you're  unselfish  about  your  happiness,  and 
I'm  selfish  about  mine." 

"  And  I  about  mine,"  the  Signor  interrupted. 

She  looked  up  again  and  a  gleam  of  triumph 
had  taken  the  place  of  her  old  radiant  smile.  It 
was  evident  that  she  did  not  understand  him,  but 
this  the  Signor  did  not  know. 

For  some  time  they  walked  on  in  silence.  A 
strong  breeze  was  blowing,  and  Edythe  laughed 
as  it  struggled  playfully  with  her  large  black  hat. 
She  seemed  to  take  everything  in  a  happy  mood 
that  night.  She  laughed  with  all  the  happy 
abandon  of  Consuelo  when  the  wind  finally  did 
lift  her  hat  and  disarrange  her  hair.  It  had 
grown  dark  and  she  took  her  hat  off  and  let  the 
wind  play  with  her  hair. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you  so  well  and  happy,"  the 
Signor  said  tenderly. 

"  I  fear  it's  not  the  happiness  that  lasts,"  Edythe 
replied. 

"  I  think  it  will  last,"  the  Signor  said  quietly. 

They  had  reached  the  studio  now,  and  the  song 
of  the  birds  greeted  them  as  they  entered. 

"  Even  the  birds  share  my  happiness  to-night, 
Signor,"  Edythe  laughed.  "  How  true  it  is  that 
when  the  soul  is  glad  all  life  looks  so,"  she  said. 


292  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

"  It  is  as  we  look  at  it  always,"  the  Signor 
replied.  "  If  you  always  felt  as  happy  as  you  do 
to-night,  you  could  act  as  you  never  have  before." 

"  I  don't  want  to  hear  anything  about  my 
work,"  Edythe  said,  as  she  drew  aside  the  long 
curtains  to  let  the  air  in.  "  Do  you  know,  Signor, 
I  feel  as  if  I  never  wanted  to  go  back  to  the  stage 
again;  I'm  tired  of  hearing  about  my  career;  in 
fact,  I'm  tired  of  hearing  of  everything  that  re- 
lates to  the  footlights." 

"  I  have  often  felt  in  that  same  mood,"  Lonspetti 
said,  "  but  with  me  necessity  has  always  forced  the 
mood  to  pass.  In  your  case  I  should  be  glad  to 
see  you  give  it  up." 

"You  are  humouring  me,"  Edythe  laughed,  as 
she  turned  her  face  toward  him. 

"  No,  on  the  contrary  I  am  serious  about  it. 
There  is  no  lasting  glory  to  stage  fame.  It  is 
only  a  constant  self-sacrifice  with  a  tinsel  crown 
for  the  reward  at  the  end." 

"  But  the  day  is  bright  while  it  does  last," 
Edythe  ventured.  "  I  like  the  excitement  of  the 
life,  the  music,  the  applause,  the  flowers.  My 
blood  has  always  craved  constant  excitement.  As 
a  child  I  had  to  have  it,  and  when  I  was  hardly 
grown  up  I  was  never  contented  unless  I  was  the 


LONSPETTTS   HOUR  293 

centre  of  some  scene  of  gayety  and  life.  I  have 
always  been  selfish  because  I  was  brought  up  to 
be.  As  a  child  I  invariably  considered  my  own 
feeling  first ;  my  own  wishes  first.  If  I  was  made 
to  abdicate  in  a  single  instance,  I  was  wilful, 
unhappy,  cross.  And  now  what  has  come  of  it? 
nothing.  I  have  made  a  name  for  myself  but,  as 
you  rightly  say,  only  a  passing  one,  and  I  have 
made  a  failure  of  my  marriage."  She  spoke  with 
gravity.  "  And  yet  I'm  happier  to-night  than  I 
have  been  for  years." 

"  Because  you  are  free  ? "  the  Signor  ventured. 

"  No,  not  that  only."     She  hesitated. 

"Dare  I  believe,"  said  Lonspetti,  drawing  close 
to  her,  "that  my  love  is  anything  to  you?"  His 
voice  failed  him  for  a  moment,  then  he  added 
quietly,  "  This  hour  is  the  only  thing  I  have  lived 
for  these  long  years."  She  tried  to  stop  him,  but 
he  held  her  hand  firmly.  "  I  had  nothing  to  offer 
you  when  I  first  met  you,"  he  said  quietly,  "  though 
I  loved  you  as  entirely  then  as  I  do  this  night  after 
twelve  years.  You  have  been  my  inspiration,  my 
God  always."  He  had  released  her  hand,  and  she 
had  risen  now  and  was  standing  at  the  window 
looking  out.  "  If  you  are  tired  of  the  false  glamour 
of  the  stage,"  he  said,  "  so  am  I.  Although  my 


294  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

name  was  blotted  out  from  the  family  record  when 
I  left  my  home  so  many  years  ago  as  the  only  heir, 
now  I  need  no  longer  return  as  a  wandering 
violinist."  He  would  have  continued  had  she  not 
interrupted  him. 

"  You  do  not  understand  me,  Signer,"  she  said. 

"  That  you  do  not  care  for  me  ? "  he  ventured. 

"  It's  not  that,"  she  said,  "  for  I  do.  You  have 
been  a  friend  through  everything." 

"  And  you  want  me  to  remain  as  such  ? "  the 
Signor  interrupted. 

"  It  would  be  better,"  Edythe  said. 

"  Since  you  love  some  one  else,"  Lonspetti  said 
gravely. 

Edythe  did  not  reply. 

"  No,  I  did  not  guess,"  the  Signor  continued. 
"  I  thought  from  what  you  told  me  a  few  moments 
ago  that  you  had  given  up  looking  for  that  pot  of 
gold  at  the  end  of  the  rainbow."  He  spoke  with 
feeling,  and  he  paced  nervously  up  and  down  the 
room.  "  Edythe,"  he  said,  and  he  took  her  hands 
tightly  in  his,  "  you  don't  know  when  life  holds  the 
best  it  can  offer  for  you."  She  did  not  answer 
him,  and  he  continued:  "The  life  that  you  are 
picturing  now  seems  the  happiest  to  you  because  I 
suppose  it's  been  an  old  dream  and  you've  made  it 


LONSPETTI'S   HOUR  295 

a  part  of  your  existence.  You  are  free  now,  and 
you  feel  that  it  will  all  materialize  as  you  have 
pictured  it.  It  won't,  dear ;  it  wouldn't  give  you 
happiness  if  it  did." 

"  I  am  going  to  give  up  my  career,"  Edythe  said 
slowly. 

"  Then  God  bless  you  and  help  you  as  you  have 
helped  me." 

"  But  are  you  never  coming  back,  Signer  ? " 
Edythe  said,  as  he  opened  the  door. 

As  he  turned  to  her  she  saw  that  his  eyes  looked 
strangely  vacant.  "  Not  if  there's  room  enough 
in  the  world  for  us  to  live  and  stay  apart,"  he  said. 
There  was  a  piteous  smile  on  his  face  as  he  took 
her  hands  in  parting.  "  If  I  was  unkind  in  any- 
thing I  said  to  you  to-night,  forgive  me,  for  when  I 
spoke  of  the  rainbow  chasers  I  was  speaking  of 
myself,  and  quite  forgot  that  you  may  find  the 
happiness  that  you  deserve." 

A  sensation  of  terror  came  over  her  as  he  said 
it,  and  she  put  out  her  hand  to  stay  him,  but  before 
she  had  realized  it,  he  had  gone. 


CHAPTER   XXXVI 

THE  TRUMP   CARD 
"Man  is  man  and  master  of  his  fate."  —  TENNYSON. 

"  AND  what  of  the  world,  Raffaelli,  when  it  has 
done  with  you,  when  like  a  woman  who  has  made 
a  man  hope  because  of  her,  it  turns  like  a  viper 
upon  him  and  stings  him  to  the  death  ? " 

It  was  Lonspetti  who  was  speaking.  There 
were  only  the  two  men  in  Raffaelli's  room  that 
evening,  —  the  actor  and  the  musician.  Raffaelli 
was  smoking,  but  if  Lonspetti  had  been,  he  had 
thrown  his  cigar  away.  Raffaelli  poured  out  a 
glass  of  sherry  and  handed  it  to  him,  but  he  only 
set  it  down. 

"  You  are  good  to  think  of  me,"  he  said,  "  but  it 
will  not  do  to-night.  What  is  balm  for  the  body 
is  poison  for  the  brain." 

"  You  make  your  brain  your  master,  do  you  ? " 
queried  Raffaelli. 

"  It  is  the  master  of  us  all,"  quickly  responded 
296 


THE   TRUMP  CARD  297 

Lonspetti.  "  When  the  brain  has  ceased  to  act, 
the  body  is  like  a  tree  with  the  roots  cut  away  — 
helpless  at  death's  mercy.  The  brain  is  the  centre 
of  all  that  is  good  and  evil.  It  makes  men  what 
they  are.  It  is  man's  greatest  inheritance,  and 
the  least  prized  of  all  his  possessions." 

The  Signer  took  quick  strides  about  the  room 
as  he  spoke. 

"  I  am  not  myself  to-night,"  he  said.  "  I  am 
like  a  man  who  has  thrown  the  highest  card  — 
and  lost." 

Raffaelli  threw  his  cigar  into  the  fire.  "  It  is  a 
satisfaction  to  have  ever  held  cards  that  count," 
he  said,  "even  if  one  played  to  lose." 

"To  lose,"  Lonspetti  laughed  —  "to  lose." 
There  was  the  hollowness  of  a  broken  heart  in  his 
laugh.  "  What  is  life  after  all,"  he  said,  "  but  a 
game  of  chance  in  which  fortune's  favoured  chil- 
dren win?  When  you  find  Fate  playing  against 
you,  throw  up  the  game  before  she  counts  it  hers. 
Unfortunately,  I  fought  to  the  last  card."  He 
laughed  again.  "  And  then  people  fear  death  —  " 

The  clock  on  the  mantel  struck  two.  Lon- 
spetti started. 

"  I  must  be  going,"  he  said. 

"  Not  to-night,  Signor,"  interrupted  Raffaelli. 


298  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

"  Yes,  to-night.  Perhaps  in  the  cool  morning 
air  I  shall  feel  better." 

"  You  will  only  feel  lonelier,"  said  Raffaelli ; 
"  the  stars  are  too  far  away  to  be  good  company 
sometimes ;  and  the  moon,  she  is  no  man's  friend. 
Come,  stay  with  me  to-night." 

But  Lonspetti  shook  his  head. 

"  Not  to-night,"  he  said  again.  "There  is  much 
to  do.  I  feel  like  a  sailor  who  has  been  ordered 
to  sea.  There  is  much  preparation  when  one  is 
starting  on  a  long  voyage." 

Raffaelli  studied  the  dying  embers  of  the  grate 
fire. 

"  I  don't  believe  I  understand  you,"  he  said, 
glancing  up. 

"  Nor  I,  myself,"  said  Lonspetti,  then  he 
laughed.  He  had  drawn  on  his  long  cloak  and 
with  the  violin  tucked  under  his  arm,  he  was 
about  to  pass  out,  but  again  Raffaelli  interrupted 
him. 

"  If  you  must  go,  let  me  accompany  you,"  he 
said. 

"You  are  good,"  said  Lonspetti,  laying  his  hand 
on  Raffaelli's  shoulder,  "  but  I  must  beg  of  you  to 
remain.  You  must  not  forget,"  he  emphasized, 
and  there  was  sadness  in  his  voice,  "that  I  am 


THE   TRUMP  CARD  299 

accustomed  to  journeying  alone.  My  coming  and 
going  provokes  no  one's  peace  of  mind,  and  I 
fancy  the  end  of  all  will  be  as  unpropitious. " 

As  he  spoke,  he  drew  on  the  cover  over  the 
violin.  Raffaelli  thought  he  heard  the  Stradivarius 
sighing.  "  Some  French  philosopher  tells  us,"  he 
said,  "  that  he  who  would  travel  the  fastest  must 
travel  alone." 

"  You  are  too  young  to  believe  those  things," 
replied  Lonspetti. 

He  had  opened  the  door  and  through  the  hall 
windows  the  moon  was  looking  in.  Lonspetti 
stepped  in  its  shadow. 

"  Don't  let  success  make  you  pessimistic,"  he 
said,  holding  out  his  hand ;  "  for  Fame  is  but  the 
illusion  of  an  hour.  Though  she  walks  by  our 
side  in  the  noonday  hour,  she  forsakes  us  when  it 
is  passed.  With  her  caresses  man  becomes  vain 
and  cynical.  A  man  who  seeks  but  her  for  his 
friend  has  naught  in  possession,  and  naught  in  the 
end."  He  was  still  holding  the  younger  man's 
hand.  "  The  golden  dreams  of  youth,"  he  said, 
"  have  all  to  perish.  Despair  will  seek  us  in  our 
hour  of  hope.  There  is  only  one  light  which 
outlasts  and  outshines  all  others,  even  death 
itself  —  and  that  is  love.  It  has  been  denied  me, 


300  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

and    yet    I    still    give    it    as    the    password    to 
Elysium." 

He  had  said  good  night,  and  the  old  moon  had 
had  time  to  creep  back  to  her  shadowy  places  in 
the  long  hall  before  Raffaelli  went  back  into  his 
room  and  left  them  to  themselves. 


CHAPTER   XXXVII 
A  SHIP  HAS  PUT  TO   SEA 

"  He  is  dead,  the  sweet  musician. 
He  has  moved  a  little  nearer 
To  the  Master  of  all  music."  —  LONGFELLOW. 

"  QUIET,  my  violin,  quiet.  Don't  let  your  heart 
break  like  mine  because  the  world  has  played 
thee  false.  As  love  inspired  music  in  the  begin- 
ning, it  is  right  that  it  should  die  because  of 
it,  since  when  life  passes,  the  soul  does.  You 
are  sobbing,  violin,  yet  my  eyes  are  dry.  Tears 
are  a  woman's  right.  As  I  listen  to-night  to 
your  voice,  I  am  conscious  for  the  first  time 
that  your  soul  and  heart  is  that  of  a  woman, 
only  your  love  is  the  greater  since  it  was  never 
tainted  by  earth's  sin  and  deception.  You  are 
trembling  to-night,  violin ;  yet  I  am  brave,  though 
the  world  will  call  me  weak,  but  it  will  never 
reach  our  ears  —  yours  and  mine.  After  the  boat 
has  slipped  its  mooring,  by  the  time  the  sun 
rises,  we  shall  be  too  far  out  at  sea  to  know  —  to 
301 


302  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

care.  After  all,  the  world  is  like  a  woman,  with 
a  woman's  nature.  She  would  have  me  stay. 
They  say  that  a  woman  finds  fascination  in  a 
man's  suffering  when  it  is  for  her  sake.  And 
you  would  have  me  stay  also,  violin.  It  cannot 
be  that  after  all  these  years  I  mistake  your  last 
message,  and  you  would  keep  me  here.  There  is 
sorrow  to-night  in  your  voice,  violin,  such  as  I 
have  never  heard  before,  and  none  will  ever 
know  again,  since  where  death  is  there  is  silence. 
It  is  the  thought  of  death,  not  death  itself,  that 
men  fear ;  yet  it  is  the  only  consolation  that  life 
holds — the  only  happiness  that  lasts." 

"  We  have  suffered  together,"  the  violin  sobbed. 

"  Yes,  suffered  together,"  murmured  Lonspetti, 
"and  so  together  we  will  pass  out  of  the  harbour 
to  blessed  oblivion." 

But  the  violin  was  silent. 

"We  have  played  our  parts,  violin,  and  now 
the  lights  are  going  out.  The  play  will  still  go 
on,  but  we  shall  have  taken  our  departure.  We 
have  earned  it  —  you  and  I.  It  is  only  a 
gilded  farce  that  we  are  cutting  away  from,  and 
the  sooner  that  we  are  out  of  it,  the  better. 
Each  part  calls  for  an  exit,  sooner  or  later :  the 
man  intrusted  with  the  role  of  a  king,  and  the 


A   SHIP   HAS   PUT   TO   SEA  303 

one  less  fortunate  with  the  role  of  a  beggar. 
The  prompter  does  not  show  us  in  what  progress 
of  the  play  the  duel  with  death,  the  greatest 
scene  of  all,  is  to  be  enacted;  but  we  will  not 
wait  for  death's  challenge,  it  may  be  long  in 
coming.  We  will  take  it  upon  ourselves  and 
challenge  him.  So  one  more  song,  my  Stradi- 
varius  —  a  song  of  triumph,  not  of  a  broken  heart ; 
a  song  of  hope  that  will  carry  comfort  with  it  as 
it  reechoes  down  the  annals  of  the  ages." 

Lonspetti's  eyes  were  glistening  as  he  raised 
the  violin  to  its  accustomed  place,  but  with 
unshed  tears.  His  hand  was  trembling  a  little, 
yet  he  held  the  bow  with  all  the  old-time  firm- 
ness. He  drew  it  once  across  the  strings,  but 
there  came  no  sound  from  them. 

"  Once  more,"  murmured  Lonspetti,  and  he 
touched  the  strings  again.  The  young  man 
across  the  hall  from  Lonspetti's  room  was 
awakened  by  the  music  of  the  violin.  He  had 
arrived  only  that  afternoon  from  one  of  the  smaller 
towns  west  of  the  Mississippi,  where  music  such 
as  that  was  never  heard.  He  was  heart-heavy 
when  he  had  fallen  asleep  that  night.  Those 
who  did  not  know  his  story  would  have  called 
it  homesickness,  though  all  that  had  made  his 


304  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

home,  his  mother,  had  forever  passed  from  it. 
It  seemed  to  him,  as  he  lay  there  and  thought 
of  her,  as  if  he  could  never  brave  the  world 
without  her.  He  wondered  if  her  way  was  as 
lonely  as  his.  It  was  while  he  was  thinking  of 
her  that  the  music  of  Lonspetti's  Stradivarius 
broke  in  upon  his  revery  —  came  like  a  message 
of  consolation  to  his  soul.  For  the  moment  he 
thought  as  he  lay  there  and  listened  to  it  that 
the  music  must  come  from  the  city  where  God 
is,  and  he  could  hear  it  because  the  gates  were 
opened  for  his  mother  to  pass  to  the  throne.  If 
it  is  the  pure  in  heart  that  shall  look  upon  the 
face  of  God,  it  is  such  that  are  privileged  while 
on  earth  to  hear  the  music  of  His  kingdom. 
The  music  that  came  to  him  was  of  the  great 
love  of  Him  who  died  for  the  world ;  the  unselfish 
love  that  is  our  only  stronghold  in  the  time  of 
trouble  and  in  death ;  the  love  that  is  devoid  of 
earth's  passions  and  longings :  such  was  the 
music  that  sought  his  tired  soul  that  night. 
As  he  listened  to  it  he  could  feel  upon  his 
cheek  a  soothing  feeling  like  that  of  a  breeze 
passing  over  the  bosom  of  a  calm  sea.  He  could 
hear  its  low  sighing  as  it  passed  onward  up  the 
narrows  of  restlessness  to  the  river  of  Lethe. 


A   SHIP   HAS   PUT   TO   SEA  305 

Strange  violin  to  weave  such  pictures  on  the 
mind's  canvas ;  but  if  you  have  brought  peace  to  at 
least  one  tired  heart,  you  have  not  indeed  sought 
God  in  vain  —  but  have  found  Him. 

But  the  music  passed.  Like  an  angel  of  hope 
intermingling  the  music  of  earth  with  the  melodies 
of  heaven,  it  had  accomplished  its  mission  and  was 
gone,  and  in  the  stillness  that  followed  a  voice  was 
heard  to  murmur  good  night. 

A  long  silence  followed.  The  stranger  across 
the  hall  listened  again  for  the  sound  of  the  music, 
but  it  did  not  come.  It  had  passed  up  the  river 
with  the  Pilot — for  a  ship  had  put  to  sea. 


CHAPTER   XXXVIII 

THE   SEAL  OF   SILENCE 

"The  breaking  of  a  heart  leaves  no  traces." —  SAND. 

"  FOR  every  generous  heart  that  ceases  to  beat 
the  world  grows  poorer." 

It  was  Marie's  tribute  to  the  memory  of  Signer 
Lonspetti.  The  news  of  his  sudden  death  had 
come  to  her,  as  it  had  come  to  all  those  who  knew 
him,  like  a  thunderbolt  from  a  clear  sky.  He  had 
indeed  solved  a  mystery,  he  and  his  inseparable 
companion  —  the  old  Stradivarius.  There  were  all 
kinds  of  rumours  circulated  about  the  city  when  the 
report  of  his  death  reached  the  ears  of  the  public. 
"  It  is  hard  enough  to  live  in  the  lime-light  of  pub- 
lic praise  or  censure,"  said  Madame,  when  she 
heard  of  them,  "  without  having  to  die  in  it.  God 
pity  us  —  we  of  the  profession."  How  true  at  this 
time  come  to  us  those  words  of  the  philosopher, 
"To  amuse  the  public,  what  a  sad  vocation  for 
one  who  thinks  !  " 

To  Edythe  the  news  came  with  sadder  and 
306 


THE   SEAL  OF   SILENCE  307 

greater  significance  than  it  had  come  to  Marie. 
When  Consuelo  brought  the  news  to  her  she  was 
inclined  to  look  upon  it  as  a  false  report,  for 
Raffaelli  had  been  at  the  studio  but  an  hour  before, 
and  he  had  spoken  of  the  Signer's  visit  to  him  the 
very  night  he  was  reported  to  have  died.  It  was 
not  ten  minutes  later  when  Ghleska  came  in  and 
confirmed  the  news,  for  he  had  been  to  Lonspetti's 
apartment  and  knew  that  the  Signer  was  dead.  It 
is  when  the  friend  without  a  word  of  parting  passes 
over  the  border  line  between  the  here  and  the 
hereafter  that  the  human  heart  cries  out  in  its 
most  potent  tenderness  and  affection,  "  One  word 
before  the  parting."  The  saddest  good-by  is  the 
one  that  is  never  spoken  —  the  good-by  that  re- 
mains hallowed  and  treasured  in  many  an  empty 
heart,  because  some  one,  some  time,  passed  away 
without  it.  If,  for  we  do  not  know,  the  newly 
dead  ever  feel  the  anguish  that  they  leave  behind 
them,  Lonspetti  knew  that  a  woman's  heart  was 
crying  to  him  for  a  word  of  forgiveness.  It  is  a 
universal  belief  that  wishes,  like  winged  messen- 
gers, reach  those  for  whom  they  are  intended ;  and 
if  the  thought  is  true,  and  death  changes  us  not,  a 
soul  lingered  long  enough  to  send  back  a  message 
of  peace, 


308  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

Madame  was  at  the  Signer's  rooms  when  Edythe 
with  the  child  Consuelo  reached  them.  It  was 
only  then  that  she  knew  that  the  Signor  had  taken 
the  violin  with  him.  In  singular  sympathy  with  the 
broken  and  dead  heart  of  the  master  player  lay 
the  broken  Stradivarius.  Love  would  have  thrust 
aside  the  curtain  had  not  death's  hand  stayed  it. 
There  was  a  smile  upon  the  face  of  the  dead  prince 
of  players.  He  had  challenged  death  himself  and 
he  had  lost,  apparently  satisfied  with  his  defeat. 
But  this,  only  those  who  challenge  him  know !  To 
one  who  knew  the  Signor  the  thought  came, 
"  Might  not  regret  come  when  we  are  hastened 
past  the  guards  of  death  of  our  own  volition  ? " 
If  there  was  any  regret  in  Lonspetti's  heart  when 
the  final  cue  came  from  the  King  of  Mystery  to 
the  prince  of  violinists,  he  answered  it  with  a  smile 
upon  his  lips.  The  blank  that  death  leaves  upon 
a  face  was  not  upon  his.  It  seemed  to  Edythe,  as 
she  sat  there  beside  him,  as  if  the  eyes  that  had 
told  her  of  his  great  love  for  her  would  yet  look 
into  hers  again.  Consuelo  put  her  arms  about 
Edythe's  neck  to  comfort  her,  for  the  tears  were 
falling  as  a  woman's  will  when  she  is  suffering. 

"You  must  come  away,"  whispered  the  child. 
"Grandmere  says  he  has  won  more  happi- 


THE   SEAL  OF  SILENCE  309 

ness  now  than  he  ever  could  have  known  on 
earth." 

"  If  we  could  only  believe  in  that  assurance," 
came  the  reply.  "It  is  only  man's  hopeful  sup- 
position." 

"But  don't  you  believe  that  we  shall  see  him 
again,"  queried  the  child,  "when  we  die  and  go 
to  heaven  too  ? " 

"If  we  could  only  call  him  back  now,"  came 
her  answer.  "  He  has  been  gone  such  a  little 
while."  She  leaned  close  to  the  bed  and  put  her 
hand  in  his.  Death  had  closed  his  eyes,  and  he 
was  smiling  proudly  for  all  that.  The  morning 
sun,  which  had  been  hidden  until  then,  came  into 
the  window  behind  him  and  threw  its  light  about 
his  head  like  the  protecting  wings  of  the  angels 
who  had  taken  him  from  their  sight. 

Some  strangers  came  into  the  room  at  that 
moment ;  the  physician  who  was  one  of  them  had 
sent  for  them.  Madame  Marie  laid  some  violets 
on  the  still  heart  of  the  Signor,  and  after  a  silent 
good-by  the  two  women  and  the  child  passed 
into  the  outer  room.  The  violin  was  there,  for 
some  one  had  taken  it  away  from  the  Signor  and 
had  put  what  was  left  of  it  into  its  case. 

"They  will   bury   it   with    him,  will   they  not, 


310  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

grandmere  ? "  sobbed  Consuelo,  when  Madame 
paused  to  look  at  it.  If  there  was  an  answer,  the 
child  did  not  hear  it.  Madame,  who  until  then 
had  kept  back  the  grief  that  was  in  her  heart, 
knelt  down  by  the  side  of  the  old  violin  and  with 
her  arms  clasped  about  it,  as  a  mother  would  her 
dead  child,  said :  "  Father  in  heaven,  send  to  the 
highway  to  guide  safely  to  Thee  a  soul  who  has 
slipped  anchor  and  has  put  to  sea  without  await- 
ing Thy  command.  Father,  receive  him  and  for- 
give him  if  in  Thy  sight  he  has  sinned  against 
Thee."  A  child's  voice  sobbed  an  amen.  She 
rose,  and  Consuelo  slipped  a  hand  into  hers. 
Edythe  had  passed  into  the  hall  and  was  awaiting 
them  there.  As  the  three  went  down  the  stairs, 
a  young  man  opened  the  door  opposite  to  Lon- 
spetti's,  and  Madame  turned,  for  she  saw  that  he 
was  anxious  to  speak  to  her. 

"  I  was  wondering,"  he  said,  "  if  a  stranger 
might  look  upon  the  face  of  the  dead  violinist.  I 
heard  him  playing  in  the  early  hours  of  the  morn- 
ing, and  I  am  told  that  he  died  soon  afterward." 

Edythe  and  Consuelo  went  on,  but  Madame 
turned  back.  To  her  he  told  the  story  of  the 
strange  music  that  had  awakened  him  that  day  — 
how  it  had  brought  hope  and  peace  in  the  hour 


THE   SEAL  OF   SILENCE  311 

of  its  own  most  potent  anguish.  She  listened  to 
the  story  of  the  violin's  last  song :  how  in  its  part- 
ing it  had  told  that  there  was  another  and  a 
brighter  world  than  this;  how  it  had  passed  on, 
leaving  a  message  of  joy  triumphant,  not  of  dead 
hope  or  a  broken  heart.  Edythe  and  the  child 
waited  for  her  in  the  lower  hall,  but  when  she  did 
not  come  they  went  on  without  her.  Already 
there  was  a  crowd  of  people  gathered  about  the 
house  and  reporters  anxious  for  news.  It  was 
some  time  before  Madame  came,  and  when  she 
did  come,  she  had  opened  her  great  heart  to  the 
young  stranger  alone  in  the  large  metropolis. 

To  the  world  that  lies  outside  the  landless  king- 
dom of  Bohemia  the  shore  is  somewhat  clouded 
by  smoke,  but  it  is  only  to  the  eyes  of  the  pessi- 
mist that  the  obstruction  is  visible.  We  hear  of 
the  inhabitants  of  Bohemia  and  the  pace  they  are 
all  going,  but  we  seldom  hear  of  the  hearts  in  its 
midst  which  are  always  and  ever  ready  to  respond 
to  a  note  of  human  suffering,  and  who  go  about 
in  the  world  carrying  with  them  a  sort  of  an  in- 
visible orchestra  that  never  ceases  in  its  glorious 
hosannas  to  the  stars. 

The  pace  that  kills!  Some  woman  reporter 
wrote  it  as  the  heading  of  her  article  on  the  Sig- 


312  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

nor's  death.  Madame's  eyes  filled  when  she  saw 
it ;  but  then  she  recovered  herself,  for  as  she  most 
truly  said,  "  Those  that  are  going  the  pace  always 
feel  as  if  the  entire  world  were  with  them." 

No  master  of  stage  art  could  have  devised  his 
death  more  akin  with  his  life  than  Signer  Lon- 
spetti.  The  stories  in  the  different  papers  dif- 
fered as  widely  as  the  beliefs  of  their  authors. 
Reports  were  current  that  he  was  a  hypnotist  and 
not  a  musician,  and  by  that  power  controlled  his 
hearers.  Mystery  invariably  breeds  suspicion. 
The  newspaper  men  sought  Madame  as  one  of  his 
friends  who  would  know  of  his  life;  but  if  she 
knew  anything  of  his  past  before  he  shone  like 
a  meteor  upon  the  musical  world,  she  did  not  part 
the  veil  that  hid  it. 

"  You  know  something  of  his  past,  surely,"  one 
reporter  ventured.  "  I  am  told  that  you  have 
known  him  for  years." 

"  But  in  those  years  have  been  too  busy  to 
attend  to  other  than  my  own  affairs,"  she  said, 
"and  I  thank  Heaven  for  it.  I  have  often 
thought  that  if  we  shall  have  to  account  for  our 
entire  lives  in  another  world,  how  many  of  us  will 
find  that  most  of  our  time  was  spent  in  attending 
to  other  people's  business.  If  you  would  give  to 


THE   SEAL  OF  SILENCE  313 

the  world  the  truth,"  Madame  continued,  "write 
of  him  as  he  was,  —  a  genius,  a  friend,  a  lover  of 
the  people,  a  working  helper  in  the  cause  of  suf- 
fering or  in  any  phase  of  poverty  or  distress,  a 
lover  of  truth ;  in  one  word,  a  man  whose  life  was 
never  stained  with  cruelty  or  dishonour." 

At  the  services  a  few  days  afterward  there 
were  but  few  dry  eyes.  There  was  a  brief  ad- 
dress by  a  minister  at  the  close  of  the  service,  in 
which  he  made  touching  mention  of  Lonspetti's 
love  for  the  poor,  and  how  the  lives  of  those  he 
had  brightened  here  would  shed  radiance  upon 
him  in  the  sight  of  God.  "  If  there  are  those," 
said  the  minister  in  closing,  "who  will  remember 
him  as  a  man  of  mystery  and  of  moods,  a  man 
who  produced  music  that  was  sometimes  super- 
natural, there  are  those  others  who  will  ever  re- 
member his  greatness  of  spirit,  his  goodness  of 
heart,  and  his  loyalty  to  those  he  loved  best. 
After  all,  what  can  it  matter  to  the  world  who  he 
was,  since  the  mystery  is  buried  with  the  body, 
and  death  is  the  greatest  mystery  man  knows." 

Madame  owned  a  resting-place  at  Greenwood, 
as  she  called  her  plot  there,  and  to  it  all  that  was 
mortal  of  the  Signor  was  consigned. 


314  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

Years  afterward,  if  it  does  not  interrupt  my 
story  to  tell  of  it,  an  Italian  gentleman  sought  the 
American  government  to  gain  information  regard- 
ing an  Italian  prince,  who  had  left  his  country 
when  a  boy  with  a  strolling  violinist.  No  trace 
of  him  had  been  discovered  until  a  connoisseur 
brought  to  Italy  that  year,  from  a  London  curios- 
ity shop,  a  part  of  the  Stradivarius  containing  the 
mark  of  the  famous  missing  instrument  for  which 
a  fortune  had  been  offered  as  a  means  to  find  the 
scion  of  their  noble  house. 

Whether  or  not  the  investigation  or  the  pictures 
of  the  Signer  offered  in  evidence  proved  satisfac- 
tory or  not,  was  never  known.  When  the  stran- 
ger returned  to  Italy,  he  took  with  him  the  body 
of  the  Signer,  and  there  in  the  tomb  of  his  own 
people,  on  the  outskirts  of  Florence,  Lonspetti 
rests  in  death. 


CHAPTER   XXXIX 

AN  UNBIDDEN   GUEST 

"  But  what  are  dreams  ?  nothing  to  have  or  hold  — 
A  strange  transmission  from  the  body  of  the  soul." 

"  IT  doesn't  seem  as  if  we  could  be  at  last 
together." 

"  But  we  are." 

"  And  that  nothing  in  this  world  or  the  next  can 
ever  come  between  us  again." 

"  Never."  She  said  it  almost  in  a  whisper.  He 
looked  into  her  eyes  and  found  there  were  tears 
there.  He  took  her  in  his  arms  and  kissed  them 
away,  and  where  the  tears  had  been  happiness 
now  smiled. 

"  Why  did  you  ever  let  me  go  away  when  you 
loved  me  ? " 

"  Because  of  my  love  for  you." 

"Thank  God,  you  came  before  it  was  too 
late." 

"  I  came  that  we  might  work  together  in  His 
service." 

315 


316  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

"  You  believe,  then,  in  the  Redeemer  of  the 
world  ? "  There  was  a  triumphant  ring  in  his 
voice. 

"  I  have  borne  His  cross,"  he  heard  her  say. 
"  Love  and  death  have  revealed  Him  to  me." 

She  was  trembling  from  head  to  foot.  Though 
he  held  her  close,  he  felt  as  if  she  was  slipping 
away  from  him.  They  were  in  a  railway  com- 
partment, speeding  toward  London.  They  had 
been  married  that  morning.  "  Was  it  possible,"  he 
thought,  "  after  their  long  parting,  that  an  accident 
was  to  separate  them  again  —  this  time  until  eter- 
nity ?  "  He  made  an  effort  to  keep  her  with  him. 
He  was  aware  that  something  had  happened. 

"  Edythe,"  he  said,  but  there  was  silence.  A 
sensation  of  terror  crept  over  him.  It  had  sud- 
denly grown  dark.  The  moment  before  the  sun 
had  been  shining  brightly.  Now  he  could  no 
longer  trace  the  walls  of  the  compartment.  The 
bells  began  to  ring  over  the  city.  As  he  listened 
to  them  they  sounded  like  church  bells.  He  put 
out  his  hand  to  find  a  door  or  a  window.  He  then 
realized  that  he  was  lying  on  his  back.  "It  must 
have  been  an  accident,"  he  thought,  "  and  Edythe 
has  been  taken  from  me."  He  struggled  to  a  sit- 
ting position,  and  when  he  opened  his  eyes,  he 


AN   UNBIDDEN   GUEST  317 

found  that  he  was  still  in  London,  that  there  had 
been  no  accident,  nothing  but  the  passing  of  a 
dream. 

But  how  his  heart  was  beating !  He  could  still 
feel  the  pressure  of  Edythe's  hand  in  his,  although 
he  had  come  to  a  full  realization  of  his  senses. 
She  was  his  then.  Perhaps  the  only  time  he 
would  ever  have  her.  Dreams  are  strange  things. 
In  them,  if  never  in  reality,  we  realize  our  hearts' 
dearest  wishes.  We  cross  barriers  that  in  life  are 
unsurmountable.  We  greet  faces,  dead  and  living, 
which  have  long  been  parted  from  us.  Dear 
dream  world  of  the  soul! 

Mr.  Courtney  rose  and  looked  out  upon  London. 
The  church  bells  were  ringing  all  over  the  city 
for  early  service.  It  had  been  his  intention  the 
night  before  to  attend  the  early  celebration.  The 
night  before  he  had  resolved  to  give  up  all  thought 
of  Edythe,  and  to  consecrate  his  life  forever  to 
the  work  he  had  begun.  If  the  world  tempted 
him  again,  he  would  take  the  vows  of  life-long 
poverty  and  celibacy.  The  night  before  he  had 
become  enthusiastic  over  his  work  —  his  great 
work  for  Christ.  If  Satan  had  ever  wrestled  for 
his  soul  with  the  temptations  of  the  world  and  its 
desires,  he  had  at  last  been  overthrown  —  and 


318  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

conquered.  But  he  had  loved.  He  tried  to  feel 
that  love,  too,  had  been  overthrown ;  but  he  well 
knew  that  that  had  not  been.  In  his  renewed 
fight  for  the  salvation  of  man  and  the  upholding 
of  Christianity,  in  the  garb  of  a  brotherhood,  if 
the  world  tempt  him  again,  in  whatever  field  his 
work  took  him,  only  God  alone  would  know  of  the 
great  struggle  that  had  threatened  to  wreck  him 
—  of  the  love  that  had  brought  him  nearer  to 
Christ's  cross.  He  had  loved.  The  thought  had 
stifled  him  the  night  before  as  he  thought  of 
Edythe,  and  realized  that  hereafter  their  ways 
would  lead  in  opposite  directions.  He  remem- 
bered how  he  had  held  his  breath  when  he 
thought  of  it  —  opposite  directions,  the  only 
woman  he  had  ever  loved ;  but  then  again  the 
thought  came,  only  for  this  short  terminal  of  life, 
for  all  paths  lead  to  the  judgment  seat,  and  per- 
haps she  would  be  his  in  the  world  to  come.  Life 
is  short,  the  soul  whispered  to  his  heart  that  night. 
Death  is  long  —  and  death  is  sweet. 

But  another  day  had  dawned  since  then.  It 
was  only  the  next  morning,  but  a  shepherd  urging 
his  flock  heavenward  stopped  again  to  look  back 
upon  the  earth.  The  struggle  between  God  and 
man  was  not  over  yet.  Mr.  Courtney's  face  was 


AN  UNBIDDEN   GUEST  319 

white  as  he  stood  in  the  glorious  sunlight  of  the 
new  day,  and  thought  of  it.  The  contest,  the 
warfare  between  his  soul  and  his  heart,  was  again 
striving  for  victory.  His  conscience  began  to 
mock  him  in  his  revery.  What  of  the  vows 
of  celibacy  in  the  life  of  the  monastery ;  what  of 
the  upholding  of  Christianity  and  the  uprooting 
of  heathenism ;  what  of  the  love  for  Christ  over 
the  passions  of  earth  love  ?  It  was  his  own  con- 
science fighting  again  for  the  doctrine  of  his 
religion  —  his  own  conscience.  Strange  thought 
when  he  realized  it.  He  turned  his  face  away 
from  the  sunlight.  The  memory  of  the  dream 
began  to  come  back  and  to  shape  itself  once 
more  upon  his  mind.  He  remembered  the  feel- 
ing in  his  heart  when  he  realized  that  Edythe 
was  his.  His  —  his  forever.  He  could  still  see 
the  wet  lashes  on  her  cheek  when  he  kissed  her. 
He  had  a  right  to  think  of  it;  it  was  only  a 
dream,  and  yet  his  heart  was  beating  as  if  the 
dream  had  been  life.  How  like  a  tired  child  she 
had  felt  in  his  arms.  He  could  still  feel  the 
pressure  of  her  little  hand  upon  his  shoulder  —  and 
it  had  never  been  there,  never  would  be  there, 
his  conscience  tried  to  say,  but  he  would  not 
hear  it.  In  the  glory  of  the  sunlight  he  could  see 


320  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

her  glorious  eyes  turned  to  his.  Waiting  for 
him,  perhaps,  he  thought ;  God  knows  if  she  only 
was.  Some  one  spoke  in  the  hall  outside  his 
door.  For  the  moment  he  thought  it  was 
Edythe's  voice  and  that  she  had  come  for  him. 
But  no,  she  was  not  there.  Perhaps  it  was  her 
thought  of  him  that  brought  them  together  — 
some  transmitted  thought  that  had  reached  him 
and  delivered  its  message.  After  the  long  parting 
it  was  difficult  to  believe  that  it  could  be  true  and 
now  that  she  was  free,  was  thinking,  perhaps 
wondering,  why  he  did  not  come  to  her.  Poor 
pensioners  upon  destiny,  blindfolded  players  in  the 
royal  game  of  chance,  children  of  fate ! 

Mr.  Courtney  threw  open  the  window  and  the 
peace  of  the  city  crept  in  like  a  bird  that  had 
been  pecking  at  the  sash  for  admittance.  The 
church  bells  had  ceased  ringing.  If  he  had 
paused  to  look  out,  he  would  have  seen  the 
people  on  their  way  to  church.  It  had  been  his 
intention  to  go  the  night  before.  The  dream  had 
changed  that  thought  since  then.  Once  again 
love  thrust  all  else  aside. 

An  hour  later  found  Mr.  Courtney  at  his  desk, 
writing.  It  seemed  to  him  as  if  his  pen  was 
listening  to  the  soul's  entreaties,  and  not  to  the 


AN  UNBIDDEN   GUEST  321 

cry  of  his  heart.  Perhaps  it  was  his  love  for 
Edythe  that  filled  his  mind  with  thoughts  of  her 
and  slackened  the  pen's  progress.  After  all,  his 
work  could  never  bury  his  love  for  her,  try  as 
he  would,  and  as  his  pen  travelled  over  the 
paper  his  mind  likewise  wandered  to  her  side. 
Perhaps,  who  knew  but  what  the  dream  was  a 
forecast  of  the  future.  She  was  free  now.  The 
word  helped  him  as  he  wrote. 

"  MY  DEAR  LITTLE  WOMAN  :  Your  last  words  to 
me  when  I  parted  from  you  have  haunted  me  day 
and  night  since  I  left  you,  for  they  were  never 
answered  until  now.  I  am  coming  back  the  day 
that  you  send  for  me.  I  shall  leave  London 
the  hour  that  your  message  comes.  God  grant 
that  my  wait  will  not  be  in  vain. 

"  It  is  now  more  than  a  year  since  I  have 
seen  you.  I  have  reflected  long  and  deeply  on 
my  duty  toward  God  and  toward  you,  and  the 
answer  has  come  to  me  in  the  solitude  of  my 
meditation  that  there  need  be  no  laying  down  of 
one  yoke  because  of  the  taking  up  of  another, 
since  there  will  be  two  to  wear  them. 

"  From  time  to  time  I  have  learned  of  the 
troubles  that  have  come  to  you,  and  my  grief 


322  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

was  the  more   that  I  could  not   be   near  to  help 
you  bear  them.     You  are  a  brave  little  woman  —  " 

He  stopped  and  read  the  letter  over.  So  far 
it  would  do.  His  hand  had  trembled  a  little 
over  some  of  the  words,  but  love  is  impatient. 
Edythe  would  understand  that  when  the  letter 
came  to  her.  But  what  would  her  answer  be  ? 
In  his  desire  to  see  her,  in  his  love  for  her,  he 
had  not  thought  of  any  other  answer  than  "to 
come  to  her."  But  he  would  finish  the  letter. 
There  was  a  calendar  hanging  on  the  wall  be- 
side him,  and  he  paused  now  to  count  the  days 
that  the  letter  would  be  on  its  journey  to  America. 
There  would  be  no  outgoing  mail  until  the 
following  Tuesday,  but  he  would  finish  and  send 
it.  Perhaps  the  earnest  wish  and  love  it  con- 
tained would  reach  the  woman  for  whom  it  was 
intended  before  the  written  words  came  to  her. 
Stranger  things  than  that  had  happened. 

And  then  the  anxious  wait  for  the  answer; 
and  after  that  —  the  journey  to  her. 

Again  the  dream  stole  back,  and  he  stopped 
writing  to  think  of  it.  But  he  had  finished  the 
letter  now.  He  had  even  signed  and  directed 
it.  By  night  it  would  have  started  on  its  journey 


AN   UNBIDDEN   GUEST  323 

to  New  York.  There  was  a  knock  at  his  door. 
Mr.  Courtney  rose  to  open  it.  For  a  moment, 
in  the  semi-darkness  of  the  hall,  Mr.  Courtney 
did  not  recognize  his  visitor  until  Dr.  Mcllvaine, 
gripsack  in  hand,  stepped  into  his  room. 

"  I  became  weary  waiting  for  you,  Rodgers," 
he  said  gravely,  as  he  took  both  of  the  young 
man's  hands  in  his.  "  Sometimes  I  feared  you 
may  have  forgotten  the  work  you  laid  aside." 

Mr.  Courtney  grasped  the  hands  that  held  his 
tighter,  but  he  did  not  speak.  "  The  work,"  he 
was  thinking,  "the  work  that  would  not  let  him 
rest." 

"  I  may  take  you  back  with  me  ? "  the  elder 
man  continued.  "  It  is  not  good  for  man  to  lay 
aside  Christ's  yoke  too  long." 

"  I  am  going  home  after  a  little  time,"  came 
the  quiet  reply. 

Dr.  Mcllvaine  sighed  deeply.  "Then  the 
world  is  still  amusing  you,  and  the  work  must 
wait.  Am  I  right?"  he  asked  after  a  moment. 

Mr.  Courtney's  head  was  down.  He  was 
thinking  —  thinking. 

"Answer,  my  son,"  the  elder  man  entreated. 
He  was  standing  by  the  small  library  table  try- 
ing to  make  a  place  for  some  of  his  numerous 


324  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

belongings  upon  it.  As  he  moved  the  papers, 
Mr.  Courtney's  letter  to  Edythe  fell  from  them 
to  the  floor. 

Whether  or  not  he  noticed  the  address  upon 
it,  as  he  picked  it  up,  we  do  not  know.  Mr. 
Courtney  stepped  forward  and  took  it  from  his 
hands.  Their  eyes  met,  but  there  was  silence. 

"  I  have  been  a  traitor,  a  hypocrite  even  unto 
myself,"  the  inner  man  confessed  to  the  soul  as 
he  destroyed  the  letter  —  and  the  soul  whispered 
back,  "  It  is  for  such  as  thee  Christ  is  dying 
daily." 


CHAPTER   XL 

A  MEETING  AND   A  PARTING 

"  Let  the  world  slide." 

No  one  ever  knew  what  the  conversation  was 
that  passed  between  the  two  clergymen  the  next 
morning,  but  when  Dr.  Mcllvaine  returned  home 
the  following  week  Mr.  Courtney  was  not  with  him. 

The  fall  had  come  and  gone,  and  he  was  still 
in  London.  He  had  taken  larger  apartments  for 
the  winter,  and  his  study  had  become  a  favourite 
resort  for  the  London  clergy.  Though  Mr. 
Courtney  had  come  as  a  stranger  to  London,  in 
the  year  and  a  half  he  had  lived  there  he  had 
made  many  friends  and  had  become  popular  and 
well  known  among  the  clergy.  He  had  preached 
several  times  since  he  had  been  there :  twice  at 
Saint  George's,  in  Hanover  Square,  and  his  ser- 
mons had  been  well  received.  There  was  an  un- 
definable  look  of  godliness  about  the  man  when 
he  stood  in  the  pulpit.  His  voice  was  low  at 
times,  yet  ever  tremulous  with  feeling.  He  gave 

325 


326  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

every  promise  of  becoming  one  of  the  most  popu- 
lar and  prominent  preachers  of  the  church. 
There  was  something  about  him  that  appealed  to 
the  masses.  It  might  have  been  his  great  gift 
as  an  orator.  Old  and  young  alike  fell  under 
the  spell  of  his  eloquence.  Dr.  Mcllvaine  was 
very  proud  of  him,  yet  he  feared  the  man's  great- 
est power  lay  in  his  own  'personality. 

Yet  it  might  have  been  the  great  sincerity  Mr. 
Courtney  put  into  everything  he  did,  everything 
he  said,  that  impressed  people  so  forcibly.  There 
was  something  so  calm,  so  spiritual,  in  his  every 
movement.  He  gave  one  the  impression  that 
Christ  and  the  church  alone  occupied  his  heart 
and  soul,  and  he  had  no  place  nor  thought  for 
any  other  love  than  that.  No  one  realized  who 
heard  him  preach  that  the  face  of  a  young  and 
beautiful  woman  was  ever  in  his  thoughts,  and  it 
was  because  of  his  love  for  her  he  could  preach 
the  better  the  love  of  Christ  crucified.  When  he 
preached  of  sacrifices,  he  spoke  as  a  man  who 
had  known  and  understood  them.  Yet  the  great- 
est sacrifice  of  his  life  had  been  Edythe's  victory, 
not  his.  He  had  told  Dr.  Mcllvaine  of  this  when 
he  was  in  London,  and  he  was  glad  of  it  now  that 
he  had  gone.  He  felt  at  least  Dr.  Mcllvaine 


A   MEETING  AND  A   PARTING  327 

would  understand  Edythe  better  now.  As  he 
took  up  the  paper  that  afternoon  he  saw  a  men- 
tion of  her  name  among  the  theatrical  news  of 
New  York.  There  was  never  a  day  but  that  he 
glanced  up  and  down  the  columns  for  some  men- 
tion of  her.  To-day  it  referred  to  her  forthcoming 
production  of  "  The  Merchant  of  Venice."  It 
was  only  a  brief  notice,  but  he  cut  it  out  and  laid 
it  between  the  leaves  of  his  note-book.  As  he 
did  so,  several  of  the  other  clippings  fell  out, 
among  them  the  account  of  Lonspetti's  death. 
He  was  reading  it  over  when  a  servant  interrupted 
him  with  a  letter.  For  the  moment  the  writing 
looked  strange  to  him.  It  was  a  small,  square 
envelope,  heavily  bordered  with  black,  but  when 
he  reflected  a  little  he  recognized  it  as  Madame 
Marie's  writing.  It  was  only  a  brief  note,  telling 
him  that  she  and  Consuelo  were  in  London,  and 
would  be  delighted  to  have  him  dine  with  them 
that  evening  at  seven,  should  he  have  no  other 
engagement 

The  writing  was  large  and  bold,  and  though 
the  words  were  few,  they  well  filled  the  four  sides 
of  the  paper.  The  whole  letter  was  characteristic 
of  the  woman,  even  to  the  signature  written 
boldly  across  the  face  of  it,  "  Thine  ever,  Marie." 


328  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

Mr.  Courtney's  face  brightened  as  he  read  it. 
So  he  was  to  see  Madame  Marie  and  little  Con- 
suelo  that  evening.  He  took  out  his  watch  and 
looked  at  the  time ;  it  was  four  o'clock.  And  the 
more  he  thought  of  seeing  them  the  lighter  his 
heart  grew,  for  now  he  felt  he  should  have  news 
about  Edythe.  Madame  Marie  would  tell  him  all 
about  her  life  since  he  went  away,  about  her 
freedom,  and  if  she  was  well  and  happy.  As 
he  read  the  note  over  he  seemed  to  feel  her  in- 
fluence about  it.  Surely  the  fates  in  some  way 
were  bringing  her  closer  to  him;  this  he  knew, 
for  he  could  see  her  face  plainer  than  he  had 
been  able  to  picture  it  for  months,  and  it  was 
smiling,  as  if  she  were  happy.  There  was  a  world 
of  love  in  her  eyes  when  she  smiled,  and  yet 
people  had  called  her  heartless.  "The  world  is 
quick  to  condemn,"  he  thought,  "and  slow  to 
praise.  The  world  makes  blunders,  but  answers 
for  none  of  its  mistakes.  Heaven  pity  those 
whom  it  turns  against."  It  seemed  to  him  as 
if  seven  o'clock  would  never  come.  He  went  out 
and  ordered  some  flowers  sent  to  Madame.  She 
was  passionately  fond  of  roses,  and  Mr.  Courtney 
had  not  forgotten  it. 

When  he  sent  up  his  card  a  few  hours  later  he 


A   MEETING  AND  A  PARTING  329 

found  Madame  Marie  and  Consuelo  at  dinner. 
Madame  rose  at  once  as  he  was  shown  to  her 
table. 

"  I  feared  you  were  not  coming,"  she  said, 
"when  I  received  your  card  among  the  roses,  so 
this  surprise  makes  the  pleasure  the  greater." 

Mr.  Courtney  bowed.  "  It  was  stupid  of  me, 
I  confess,"  he  laughed,  "not  to  have  written  a 
word  of  acceptance  upon  it.  The  truth  is,  I  never 
thought  of  it." 

Madame  smiled  graciously.  "The  offence  is 
quite  a  pardonable  one,"  she  said  brightly. 

Consuelo  in  the  meantime  had  slipped  down 
from  her  chair  and  was  holding  Mr.  Courtney's 
hand  tightly.  He  turned  now  and  embraced  her. 

"  What  a  big  girl  she  has  grown  to  be  !  "  he  said, 
as  he  held  her  out  at  arm's  length,  "but  every 
dimple  is  still  there,"  he  added,  as  she  looked  up 
at  him  and  laughed. 

"  I  shall  give  her  away  the  moment  she  loses 
them,"  Madame  said,  as  they  were  seated. 

"I'll  take  her  with  or  without  them,"  Mr. 
Courtney  said. 

Consuelo  blushed  prettily  and  passed  him  the 
menu. 

"You    would    hardly    think    from    Consuelo's 


330  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

silence  that  you  had  been  the  one  topic  of  her 
conversation,  the  knight  of  her  heart,  since  you 
went  away." 

Mr.  Courtney's  face  brightened.  "No,  I 
thought  she  had  forgotten  me,"  he  answered. 

Consuelo  looked  up  at  her  grandmother  and 
laughed. 

"  She  has  been  as  true  to  you  as  if  you  had 
been  there,"  Madame  said ;  "  but  come,  tell  me 
what  you  have  been  doing  all  this  long  time  in 
England,"  she  added,  "  I  confess  I  am  curious  to 
know." 

"  I  regret  to  say,  nothing,"  Mr.  Courtney  said 
slowly. 

"You  are  always  modest,"  was  her  comment  as 
she  turned  to  him. 

An  hour  later  when  they  were  through  dinner 
she  broached  the  subject  again.  "  You  have  not 
told  me,"  she  said,  "what  you  have  been  doing 
since  we  saw  you  last  in  New  York." 

They  had  now  passed  into  Madame's  apart- 
ment, and  as  she  spoke  she  turned  from  him 
slightly  to  where  the  roses  he  had  sent  her  stood. 

"  I  must  confess,  only  waiting,"  was  the  answer. 

As  he  watched  her  standing  there,  he  thought 
that  she  looked  even  younger  than  when  he 


A  MEETING  AND   A   PARTING  331 

last  saw  her.  She  was  dressed  as  usual  in  heavy 
mourning,  for  "her  dead  and  buried  youth," 
as  she  once  aptly  expressed  it,  though  the  dress 
she  wore  that  night  was  particularly  conspicuous 
for  a  long  evening  train  of  crape.  Had  it  not 
been  for  her  unusual  animation  at  dinner,  one 
would  have  supposed  from  her  dress  she  had  but 
that  afternoon  returned  from  the  funeral  of  a 
deeply  lamented  husband.  She  wore  her  bonnet 
and  veil  in  the  dining  room,  and  even  Mr. 
Courtney,  who  remembered  her  singular  partiality 
for  mourning,  was  wont  to  wonder  if  Consuelo's 
mother  was  still  numbered  among  the  living.  He 
inquired  for  her  when  the  opportunity  presented 
itself,  and  he  was  told  that  she  was  somewhere  in 
America.  "  I  say  '  somewhere,'  since  she  rarely 
stops  in  the  same  place  two  days  in  succession." 
She  spoke  of  the  success  her  operas  had  met  with 
in  Boston  the  spring  before,  and  how  she  had 
spent  the  proceeds  on  a  trip  to  the  Klondyke 
during  the  summer.  "  I  believe  now  she  thinks 
there  is  more  money  to  be  made  in  mining  than 
composing,  and  she  may  be  right." 

"  It  would  seem  a  rather  perilous  trip  for  a 
woman  to  make  in  search  of  gold,"  Mr.  Courtney 
said. 


332  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

"  It  does  seem  so,"  Madame  said  after  a  mo- 
ment; "but  that  didn't  prevent  her  from  going." 

"  And  you  didn't  oppose  it  at  all  ? "  Mr.  Court- 
ney interrupted. 

"  No,  for  the  good  reason  that  when  I  heard  of 
it  she  was  on  board  the  steamer  leaving  Seattle." 

Mr.  Courtney  laughed,  and  even  Madame  looked 
amused. 

"  I'm  going  back  with  her  in  the  spring,"  Con- 
suelo  volunteered. 

Mr.  Courtney  looked  amazed. 

"Then  she  expects  to  put  me  under  ground," 
Madame  said,  as  she  turned  to  him.  "  She  forgets 
that  those  who  have  been  there  rarely  tell  of  the 
danger  signs  they  encountered.  I  fancy  among 
the  Klondykers  there  is  a  certain  honour  observed 
as  among  thieves." 

There  was  a  brief  silence  for  a  moment,  and  Mr. 
Courtney  wanted  to  ask  for  Edythe,  but  something 
rose  in  his  throat  and  choked  him.  Madame  spoke 
of  Lonspetti's  death,  and  the  void  it  had  made  in 
their  little  circle.  "  Edythe  has  never  recovered 
from  it,"  she  said.  "  She  tells  me  that  she  is  no 
longer  willing  to  remain  alone  in  the  studio,  he 
was  there  so  much  of  the  time.  The  very  walls 
seem  to  breathe  again  the  music  of  his  old  Stradi- 


A  MEETING  AND  A   PARTING  333 

varius."  Madame's  voice  grew  singularly  tender 
as  she  spoke  of  him.  "  It  is  hard  for  the  world  to 
lose  such  a  man,"  she  said ;  "  with  us  his  passing 
will  ever  be  fresh,  the  wound  ever  deep." 

"  Mrs.  Merrall  has  had  many  sorrows  to  bear 
since  I  saw  her  last,"  Mr.  Courtney  said. 

"And  she  has  borne  them  all  well,"  Madame 
emphasized.  "  She  is  a  woman  who  has  been  un- 
justly and  unmercifully  criticised,  simply  because 
she  chose  to  live  her  own  life.  It  is  said  that  in 
leaving  her  husband  she  carried  out  the  impulse  of 
a  moment,  but  it  was  not  so.  She  had  been  un- 
happy all  her  married  life.  She  was  very  young 
when  she  married  Mr.  Merrall,  and  youth  makes 
many  blunders.  She  looks  at  life  differently  after 
she  has  had  a  little  experience.  Wealth  in  her 
eyes  can  give  everything,  but  it  does  not  always 
include  happiness." 

Consuelo  had  left  them  now,  for  it  was  her  bed- 
time, and  Mr.  Courtney,  who  had  accompanied  her 
as  far  as  the  door,  returned  now  and  stood  near 
Madame's  chair.  He  said  something  about 
Edythe ;  something  about  his  work,  which  was 
nothing  to  him  in  comparison  with  his  love  for  her. 
It  may  have  been  that  Madame  did  not  understand 
why  he  gave  up  his  work  and  went  away.  But  it 


334  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

was  no  matter,  he  thought,  he  would  tell  her  now, 
and  he  did.  His  voice  thickened  a  little  as  he 
spoke,  but  the  great  love  that  he  felt  for  Edythe 
was  in  his  eyes. 

"  And  I  am  going  back  to  her,"  he  said  at  last 
when  Madame  did  not  speak ;  "  I  will  go  to- 
morrow." 

She  looked  up  and  met  the  candour  in  his  eyes. 
"  She  will  think  of  your  work,"  Madame  said 
quietly,  "otherwise  I  would  say  to  you  to  go." 

"My  work,"  Mr.  Courtney  said  slowly,  "my 
work  can  still  go  on.  I  have  not  taken  the  vows 
of  celibacy,  nor  does  the  church  demand  it."  His 
voice  had  a  strong  ring  in  it  as  he  spoke.  He 
thought  Madame  said  something  about  Edythe's 
own  career,  her  divorce  from  her  husband,  —  all 
this  she  would  feel  would  come  between  them. 

"We  must  consider  the  world  sometimes,"  Ma- 
dame said,  "  even  at  the  sacrifice  of  our  own  happi- 
ness and  inclinations.  Though  we  battle  against  it, 
we  are  often  forced  to  yield  to  her  demands. 
Edythe  thinks  of  all  this,"  she  continued,  "  for 
your  sake,  not  for  her  own." 

"  It  is  not  the  world,  it  is  how  the  church  will 
regard  it,"  Mr.  Courtney  said.  "  She  feels,  per- 
haps, that  it  would  not  countenance  our  marriage, 


A  MEETING  AND   A  PARTING  335 

but  it  would.  I  have  thought  this  all  over  many, 
many  times.  I  have  always  known  that  Edythe 
was  thinking  of  my  mission  when  she  let  me  go 
away  from  her.  She  will  think  differently  of  it 
now,  for  she  is  free." 

"  But  if  the  church  does  not  countenance  it  ? " 
queried  Madame  Marie. 

"  Then  I  will  leave  the  ministry,"  he  said  decid- 
edly. "  I  can  do  good  work  for  the  church  as  a 
layman,  even  if  I  am  not  in  the  ranks  of  the  clergy. 
We  cannot  always  be  making  sacrifices  of  ourselves 
—  God  does  not  demand  it  of  us,"  he  said. 

"  Nor  wish  it,"  said  Madame.  "  In  my  heart  I 
am  glad  you  are  going  back  to  her.  She  loves  you, 
and  you  will  make  her  happy.  She  is  a  lovely 
woman,  and  has  been  a  much  misjudged  one." 

He  was  going  now,  and  he  took  the  hand  she 
held  out  to  him  and  kept  it  for  a  moment  in  a 
strong,  gentle  clasp. 

"  I  wish  I  could  tell  you  how  much  happiness 
you  have  given  me,"  he  said  slowly.  "  It  seems 
like  a  dream  to  think  of  going  home  to  Edythe." 

Madame  smiled  radiantly  upon  him.  "And 
may  the  future  be  a  long  dream  of  happiness  for 
you  both,"  she  answered,  as  they  parted  good 
night. 


CHAPTER   XLI 

IN   SIGHT   OF   SHORE 

"  Through  the  sunset  of  Hope."  —  SHELLEY. 

MR.  COURTNEY  rose  early  and  went  out  on  deck. 
They  had  been  six  days  at  sea,  and  he  hoped  he 
should  see  New  York  harbour  in  the  distance,  and 
he  was  disappointed.  Sea  and  sky  only  were  in 
view.  It  was  a  beautiful  morning,  a  solace  after  a 
stormy  week  at  sea.  But  the  storm  and  the  wind 
had  not  troubled  him,  nor  the  anger  of  the  waves 
annoyed  him,  for  he  was  going  home.  His  heart 
was  so  buoyed  up  by  the  thought  of  it  that  he 
could  find  no  place  for  aught  but  joy.  The  beauti- 
ful long  springtime  of  the  future  !  How  the  fates 
play  for  us  when  we  least  know  it ;  how  we  drift 
through  the  shadows  and  come  upon  the  sunlight 
unawares ! 

Before  another  day  had  dawned  he  would  have 
seen  Edythe.  He  could  picture  her  surprise  when 
she  saw  him.  Perhaps  it  would  have  been  better 
to  have  sent  her  word  the  day  he  sailed,  he  thought, 

336 


IN   SIGHT  OF   SHORE  337 

but  then  Madame  Marie  had  advised  him  not  to,  and 
he  had  taken  her  advice.  As  it  was,  the  suspense 
and  the  impatience  of  the  week  had  only  been  his 
to  bear.  She  would  know  nothing  of  his  coming 
until  he  greeted  her.  As  he  thought  of  seeing  her 
he  could  hardly  wait.  He  rose  and  paced  up  and 
down  the  long  deck.  It  seemed  to  him  as  the 
time  approached  to  see  her  that  the  last  day  of  all 
dragged  along  with  leaden  feet.  After  all,  life 
had  been  nothing  to  him  since  he  had  been  away 
from  her.  She  alone  made  up  his  world,  filled  his 
every  thought,  made  the  future  worth  striving  for. 
As  he  stood  there  leaning  against  the  railing  the 
memory  of  that  dream  when  she  was  his  stole  in 
upon  his  thoughts.  His  eyes  had  a  strangely 
tender  gleam  as  he  recalled  it  —  that  forecast  of 
the  future.  He  had  so  much  to  tell  her  when  he 
saw  her  he  could  not  wait ;  but  then  the  thought 
came  to  him,  it  was  not  for  a  brief  hour  or  day, 
for  he  would  have  her  always.  And  yet  could  the 
future  hold  any  reparation  for  the  long  parting  ? 
"  God  made  us  for  each  other,"  he  said  over  and 
over  again.  "  We  have  drifted  our  separate  ways ; 
yet  the  bond  of  love  was  drawing  us  closer  to  each 
other  day  by  day,  hour  by  hour.  Unconsciously, 
each  step  has  been  to  this  one  end.  We  may 


338  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

strive  against  destiny,  but  her  laws  are  above  the 
human  will." 

He  thought  of  the  day  he  parted  from  her :  how 
he  had  given  her  up  because  she  herself  had 
willed  it ;  how  he  had  gone  away  to  forget  her. 
He  hardly  knew  now  how  he  had  ever  found 
strength  to  do  it.  But  thank  God,  it  was  over  now. 
He  was  now  almost  on  the  threshold  of  the  Eden 
he  had  so  often  pictured,  and  then  put  away  be- 
cause he  dared  not  hope  it  could  be  for  him.  In 
the  heart  lies  the  Eden  that  we  seek  elsewhere, 
where  when  the  day  is  past  and  night  comes  to  us 
we  may  go  for  comfort,  and  seeking  find  it.  It  was 
good  to  think  of  Edythe  and  to  feel  that  he  should 
soon  be  with  her.  He  thought  of  the  sorrows  that 
had  come  to  her  since  he  had  been  away,  and  they 
troubled  him  still  with  all  the  potency  of  fresh 
grief.  In  the  days  to  come  there  would  be  only 
the  one  thought  —  that  of  making  her  future  the 
happier  because  of  the  unhappiness  of  the  past. 
They  would  begin  life  anew  together  —  together. 
He  thought  of  the  home  awaiting  them  some- 
where, away  from  the  ceaseless  bustling  of  the  city, 
where  they  could  find  peace  because  they  would  be 
where  nature  was,  and  nature  is  all  peace.  And 
he  pictured  the  garden  they  would  have,  —  the  roses, 


IN   SIGHT   OF   SHORE  339 

the  honeysuckles,  and  the  old-fashioned  lilacs, 
and  as  he -thought  of  it  he  found  his  mind  going 
back  to  the  old  Massachusetts  homestead,  the 
home  of  his  childhood  and  boyhood.  Strange 
that  that  picture  should  have  come  back  to  him 
after  all  those  years  he  had  been  away  from  it. 
After  all,  his  life  since  had  never  been  as  happy  as 
the  days  he  had  lived  there.  He  could  recall  how 
beautiful  the  maple  trees  were  when  the  spring 
opened,  and  the  crimson  and  gold  of  their  leaves 
when  the  fall  came.  He  found  himself  thinking 
once  again  of  the  great  oak  tree  that  guarded  the 
windows  of  his  room  like  the  kind  arms  of  an  old 
friend,  for  such  they  were.  In  all  these  years  he 
had  not  thought  of  it  before.  He  recalled  now  its 
wonderful  russet  colouring  in  the  autumn  when  it 
shaded  almost  to  purple  in  the  sunset.  Strange 
that  going  home  to  Edythe  should  take  him  back 
once  more  to  that  old  New  England  home. 

But  then  the  house  of  dreams  is  rich  in  its 
possessions,  for  it  holds  all  the  dead  days  and 
dead  hopes  we  have  ever  known,  and  the  key 
to  it  is  the  key  of  remembrance,  and  over  its 
threshold  are  the  buried  treasures  of  the  heart. 
Though  the  past  may  hold  its  sorrows,  inter- 
mingled with  its  joys,  there  is  a  peculiar  sweet- 


340  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

ness  hallows  it  when  we  recall  it,  perhaps  because 
we  remember  it  can  never  come  again.  The  dear, 
dead,  happy  days  of  the  past.  Their  magical 
sweetness  comes  back  to  us  with  potent  fragrance 
when  the  mind  awakens  them  from  their  long 
sleep  in  the  years  when  we  parted  "auf  wieder- 
sehen." 

As  Mr.  Courtney  recalled  the  old  home,  he 
wandered  in  his  mind's  eye  down  the  box-bordered 
path  to  where  the  arch  of  vines  and  wistaria  met 
over  it,  like  a  curtain  of  nature  disclosing  more 
beauty  beyond.  And  the  summer-house,  where 
the  sweet  peas  grew  in  such  abundance  about  it. 
As  he  traced  the  path  farther  on,  past  the  wis- 
taria arch,  he  came  to  it.  It  was  a  paradise  for 
birds  in  the  springtime  — this  garden  of  his  youth. 
It  seemed  to  him  like  an  age  since  he  had  wan- 
dered there,  and  yet  the  years  that  had  come 
between  were  comparatively  few.  It  was  autumn 
when  he  was  there  last  —  and  it  was  late  autumn 
now.  He  could  see  again  as  if  but  yesterday 
his  grandmother,  the  only  homemaker  he  had 
ever  known,  being  carried  out  across  the  threshold, 
never  to  return  again.  She  had  waited  for  him 
there  so  often  in  the  shade  of  the  vine-covered 
piazza.  There  was  always  a  faint  perfume  of 


IN   SIGHT   OF   SHORE  341 

lavender  about  her,  and  as  she  came  again  across 
the  misty  borderland  of  the  past  to  linger  for  a 
moment  on  the  threshold  of  the  present,  he  could 
still  scent  the  perfume  of  the  lavender  flower. 

But  why  was  he  wandering  into  the  groves 
and  among  the  trees  of  the  old  home  ?  Was  it 
some  fancy  of  the  brain,  some  trick  of  the  imagi- 
nation that  only  the  past  seemed  real  and  the 
present  appeared  far  away  ?  The  angel  of  mem- 
ory seemed  tenderly  reminiscent  this  day  of  all 
days  when  his  heart  held  but  one  thought,  one 
interest,  that  of  reaching  home,  and  Edythe. 
But  what  if  the  veiled  future  should  take  him 
back  to  the  old  Massachusetts  homestead  ?  only 
he  would  have  Edythe  with  him  then. 

And  Mr.  Courtney  was  as  happy  as  a  boy  all 
that  day.  His  high  spirits  seemed  infectious ; 
his  light-heartedness  communicated  itself  to  every 
one  about  him.  He  was  going  home  to  Edythe. 
What  a  happy  world  it  was,  his  heart  was  sing- 
ing within  him,  what  a  world  of  love,  of  beauty, 
and  enchantment!  He  wondered  what  Dr.  Mc- 
Ilvaine  thought  when  he  received  his  cablegram 
that  he  was  leaving  for  home.  But  he  was 
ready  now  to  resign  from  the  ministry,  should 
the  bishop  deem  it  best.  And  yet  as  he  thought 


342  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

of  it  he  could  not  feel  that  his  work  was  to  be 
given  up.  He  had  taken  up  Christ's  yoke  be- 
cause of  his  love  for  Him,  and  Edythe  would  help 
him  carry  his  glorious  work  on. 

*******# 

It  was  ten  o'clock  in  the  evening;  the  Lu- 
cania  was  lying  outside  of  New  York  harbour. 
She  had  been  sighted  and  welcomed,  but  she  had 
come  too  late  to  make  port  that  night.  From  her 
decks  came  the  music  of  "America."  Mr.  Court- 
ney was  out  on  deck,  and  he  was  disappointed 
and  heartsick.  In  sight  of  home,  and  yet  not 
there.  Everything  in  the  harbour  about  him 
was  hushed  and  quiet;  there  was  no  sound  save 
that  which  came  from  the  great  city  beyond. 
The  band  had  ceased  playing.  It  seemed  to  Mr. 
Courtney  as  he  leaned  there  against  the  railing, 
waiting  and  watching  for  what  he  knew  not,  that 
he  was  the  only  one  of  the  passengers  disap- 
pointed because  the  ship  had  been  too  late  to 
reach  her  dock.  Every  one  else  on  board  the 
steamer  seemed  happy  and  apparently  satisfied 
but  himself. 

But  the  monotony  of  the  scene  was  broken. 
There  was  a  small  boat  making  her  way  through 
the  dusk  in  the  harbour.  As  she  came  nearer 


IN   SIGHT   OF   SHORE  343 

it  was  seen  that  it  was  a  small  yacht,  and  she 
was  heading  for  the  ocean  liner.  "She  brings 
news  for  some  one,"  was  the  general  impression 
on  board  as  she  came  alongside  and  dropped 
anchor.  Those  who  were  out  on  deck  were 
interested  in  the  news  the  yacht  brought.  It 
was  Mr.  Courtney  who  was  wanted.  Some  one 
whispered  it  was  a  matter  of  life  and  death, 
but  no  one  knew. 


CHAPTER  XLII 
UNTIL  DEATH 

"Our  lives,  like  ships  at  sea,  an  instant  meet, 
Then  part  forever  on  their  courses  fleet." 

—  STEDMAN. 

"TELL  Mr.  Lowell  that  the  curtain  may  be 
rung  up,  for  I  am  ready."  Edythe  made  an 
effort  to  raise  herself  up  on  the  pillows,  but 
sank  back  before  any  one  could  reach  her.  "  You 
will  tell  him,  Dorothy,"  she  said. 

"  Yes,  Edythe,  he  already  knows." 

"That  I  am  better?" 

Dorothy  sat  down  on  the  side  of  the  bed  and 
took  Edythe's  hand.  "You  didn't  know,  Edythe," 
she  said,  "that  we  had  brought  you  home,  and 
that  the  last  act  must  go  on  without  you ; "  then, 
glancing  up,  she  added,  "  But  it  is  midnight  now, 
and  even  the  last  curtain  has  fallen." 

Edythe  made  another  effort  to  raise  herself, 
and  the  physician  who  was  standing  near  went 
forward  and  lifted  her  up  on  the  pillows.  Per- 

344 


UNTIL   DEATH  345 

haps  the  dying  woman,  for  such  she  was,  saw 
in  the  physician's  face  the  trouble  that  was  in 
his  heart,  for  she  said,  "This,  doctor,  I  suppose, 
is  the  end  —  " 

He  did  not  answer;  perhaps  his  voice  failed 
him. 

"  The  end,"  she  repeated.  "  How  little  I  knew 
it  was  here  when  I  awoke  this  morning ;  how 
little  any  of  us  know." 

Dorothy  went  out  of  the  room,  but  the  physi- 
cian remained  beside  her. 

"You  must  not  give  up  hope,"  he  said,  "for 
the  weakness  will  pass." 

"  All  things  will  pass,"  Edythe  answered ; 
"even  death  will  pass." 

"  But  you  are  better,"  the  physician  reassured 
her.  "  We  had  little  hope  when  you  were  taken 
ill,  but  now  there  is  every  reason  to  hope." 

"  Tell  me  how  it  was,"  she  asked.  "  Had 
I  left  the  stage?  I  remember  very  little  of 
the  last  act  I  played  —  very  little,"  she  said 
again. 

"You  had  gone  to  your  dressing-room,"  the 
doctor  replied ;  "  but  we  will  not  talk  of  that 
to-night.  To-morrow  —  " 

"To-morrow  will  be  too  late  for  me  to  care," 


346  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

Edythe  said,  and  although  she  spoke  slowly,  it 
was  bravely.  A  slight  flush  had  risen  to  her 
cheeks,  and  it  relieved  the  deathlike  pallor  a 
little.  Dorothy  returned  at  that  moment,  and 
the  physician  rose  to  leave  the  room. 

"  He  tells  me  there  is  hope,"  she  said  when 
he  had  gone,  "  but  I  know  there  is  none  —  none 
whatever,"  she  repeated  slowly. 

"  Sit  down  here,  Dorothy,  and  while  I  am  able 
to  speak  let  me  tell  you  something."  She  glanced 
up,  for  the  door  had  opened,  and  a  clergyman 
had  entered  the  room.  Dorothy  rose  to  meet  him. 
It  was  the  Rev.  Dr.  Mcllvaine.  He  came  forward 
with  a  little  hesitation,  as  if  he  feared  he  was 
an  intruder,  but  then  when  he  saw  the  smile  on 
Edythe's  face  he  went  forward  and  knelt  beside 
her. 

"  You  were  good  to  come  here,"  she  said.  "  I 
have  had  such  a  different  life  from  other  people 
that  I  never  expected  to  die  as  others  do." 

"It  has  been  a  brave  fight,"  Dr.  Mcllvaine 
said.  "  I  never  realized  until  I  was  called  to  your 
side  now  what  a  fight  yours  has  been,  and  what 
a  victory  over  the  enemies  of  God." 

"Then  you  knew  of  it  all?"  Edythe  said. 

"And  I  am  proud  ever  to  have  known  you," 


UNTIL  DEATH  347 

Dr.  Mcllvaine  replied.  His  voice  trembled.  "  We 
do  not  understand  our  fellow-men,"  he  said,  "as 
we  should.  We  do  not  realize  the  worth  of  the 
soldier  fighting  beside  us  until  we  are  left  to  face 
the  enemy  alone.  God  knows  I  never  realized 
what  a  woman  you  were  until  now  —  when  I  can 
only  come  as  one  of  Christ's  poorest  soldiers 
and  beg  the  forgiveness  of  one  of  his  standard- 
bearers."  He  took  her  hand  in  his  and  pressed 
it  to  his  lips.  "  Child  of  God,  you  are  going 
into  His  presence.  Intercede  for  one  whose 
strength  and  courage  are  failing." 

There  was  a  smile  of  forgiveness  on  her  face, 
but  she  did  not  answer  him ;  perhaps  death's 
voice  silenced  the  living  one.  Her  eyes  were 
still  wide  open,  and  the  look  in  them  was  that 
of  peace.  He  rose  from  his  knees  and  began 
the  service  for  the  dying,  and  he  watched  her 
as  he  read,  hoping,  trusting  that  she  heard,  but 
this  he  never  knew.  He  was  still  reading  when 
Edythe  turned,  and  rinding  Dorothy  beside  her 
made  an  effort  to  speak  to  her.  Dr.  Mcllvaine 
ceased  reading. 

"  My  children,"  she  whispered,  "what  the  world 
robbed  me  of,  death  is  restoring." 

There  was   a  long  pause.      For  a  moment  it 


348  THE  TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

looked  as  if  consciousness  was  coming  back 
before  the  end  came.  Dorothy's  voice  was  too 
broken  to  speak,  but  Dr.  Mcllvaine  knelt  down 
and  spoke  to  her.  What  he  told  her,  or  what 
he  asked  her,  we  do  not  know.  That  she  heard 
his  words  and  understood  their  meaning,  we  con- 
jecture, for  there  was  a  smile  of  triumph  on  her 
face  when  he  had  finished,  a  look  of  triumph 
such  as  only  those  who  have  loved  and  suffered 
may  understand. 

"  Keep  up  courage,"  he  faltered,  "  don't  give 
up  hope."  Dr.  Mcllvaine's  eyes  were  glistening, 
but  he  held  her  hands  firmly.  Edythe  smiled, 
but  made  him  no  reply. 

"He  will  surely  reach  here,"  came  the  reas- 
surance. 

Edythe  raised  her  eyes  to  his,  and  he  could 
read  the  words  that  were  in  her  heart,  "He  may 
not  know." 

"  But  when  he  does,  he  will  surely  come,"  he 
said  again. 

"  When  he  does,"  she  repeated  after  him,  slowly 
and  quietly.  "  Yes,  when  he  does,"  she  whispered 
once  again. 

Dorothy  had  given  way  to  her  tears  and  had 
left  the  room.  Dr.  Mcllvaine  thought  she 


UNTIL   DEATH  349 

noticed  it,  for  her  eyes  seemed  to  follow  her  for 
the  moment  as  if  perhaps  she  did  not  understand 
her  sorrow.  She  murmured  something  that  he 
did  not  hear.  He  bent  his  head  closer,  but  she 
did  not  repeat  it. 

"  It  seems  a  long  time  waiting,"  Dr.  Mcllvaine 
said  tenderly,  "but  he  will  come." 

As  he  spoke,  he  noticed  she  glanced  up  quickly. 
A  look  of  triumph  and  strength  for  the  moment 
came  into  her  face.  Dr.  Mcllvaine  turned  and 
saw  Mr.  Courtney  standing  in  the  doorway. 
"Thank  God,  she  lives,"  he  heard  him  say. 
The  next  moment  he  was  at  Edythe's  side. 

"You  did  come  at  last,"  she  whispered,  when 
he  did  not  speak.  He  tried  to  answer  her,  but 
his  voice  failed  him.  Dr.  Mcllvaine  had  passed 
from  the  room,  and  though  they  were  alone,  the 
words  that  were  uppermost  in  his  heart  would 
not  come.  He  lifted  her  up  in  his  strong  arms 
and  kissed  her,  but  he  saw  that  her  eyes  no 
longer  could  look  into  his.  She  raised  her  hand 
and  laid  it  on  his  face. 

"  I  am  here,"  he  said  softly,  as  he  drew  her 
closer,  "  still  here.  Don't  you  know  me  ?  "  He 
looked  into  her  face  and  saw  that  death  was 
there.  He  spoke  her  name,  and  although  she 


350  THE   TENTH   COMMANDMENT 

was  dying,  she  knew  the  voice  and  made  a  last 
effort  to  speak  to  him. 

"  God  never  intended  us  for  each  other,"  she 
said,  then  the  voice  failed  her. 

What  Rodgers  Courtney  said  to  her,  the 
living  heard  and  understood,  and  now  the  dead 
holds  sacred  — 

When  Dr.  Mcllvaine  returned  to  the  room  a 
few  moments  later,  Mr.  Courtney  was  still  kneel- 
ing by  the  bedside,  holding  Edythe  in  his  arms, 
as  if  he  could  not  give  her  up. 

There  was  a  look  of  peace  upon  the  face  of 
the  dead  woman,  as  if  she  had  died,  happy  that 
the  separations  and  the  sacrifices  of  this  world 
are  only  —  until  death. 


THE    END 


OPINIONS    OF    THE    PRESS 

Upon  the  Previous  Work  of 

MARGUERITE    LINTON    GLENTWORTH 


OPINIONS  OF   THE  PRESS 


London  Times : 

"  Miss  Glentworth's  work  is  as  clean  cut  as  a  rare  old  cameo." 

N.Y.  Mail  and  Express  : 

"  Her  writings  show  strength  and  a  style  that  is   prominent 
for  originality  and  charm." 

N.Y.  Times: 

"  The  '  Twentieth  Century  Boy  '  is  undeniably  clever.     It  is 
worthy  of  serious  study." 

Booklover's  Weekly: 

"  It  is  bright,  fresh,  and  juicy  with  wholesome  jollity." 

Boston  Transcript : 

"  Miss  Glentworth's  work  has  staying  power.     '  A  Twentieth 
Century  Boy '  is  a  capital  story." 

Boston  Home  Journal : 

"  Her  work  is  most  readable  and  fascinating.     '  A  Twentieth 
Century  Boy '  is  decidedly  one  of  the  new  fiction  hits." 

Brooklyn  Eagle : 

"  Its  literary  quality  is  superior." 

New  Orleans  Picayune : 

"  Old  people  and  young  will  enjoy  this  book ;  it  is  delightfully 
human." 

North  American,  Philadelphia : 
"  A  most  delightful  creation." 

N.Y.  Journal  and  American : 

"Thoroughly  fascinating  and  enjoyable." 

2 


OPINIONS    OF    THE    PRESS 


N.Y.  Commercial  Advertiser: 

"  Her  work  is  of  a  high  order;  the  style  is  new  and  refreshing." 

The  Dial: 

"  It  is  one  of  the  best  of  the  season's  books." 

San  Francisco  Call : 

"  Miss  Glentworth  has  won  the  esteem  of  the  reading  public." 

Hartford  Times : 

"  Miss  Glentworth  has  the  making  of  a  powerful  writer." 

The  Outlook: 

"  Her  work  has  fine  literary  flavor." 

The  Living  Church : 

"  Miss  Glentworth's  style   and   humor   is  not   unlike   Oliver 
Wendell  Holmes's." 

The  Churchman : 

"  It  is  a  book  that  is  worthy  to  be  enjoyed  and  remembered." 

Chicago  Journal : 

"  Miss  Glentworth  has  a  keen  sense  of  humor  ;  her  book  is 
exceedingly  readable." 

St.  Louis  Globe-Democrat : 
"  It  is  wonderfully  clever." 

Newark  (N.J.)  News: 

"  Miss  Glentworth's  vein  of  humor  is  uncommon.    The  '  Twen- 
tieth Century  Boy '  is  worthy  of  its  success." 

Omaha  Bee  : 

"  Its  fun  is  irresistible." 

New  England  Magazine : 
"  A  captivating  story." 

Christian  Endeavor  World  : 

"  It  can  well  be  called  '  the  most  entertaining  book  of  the 
year.'  " 

3 


OPINIONS    OF    THE    PRESS 


New  York  Press  : 

"  It  is  a  fascinating  and  original  novel." 

Rochester  Post-Express : 

"  It  will   be   read  and   enjoyed   wherever   the   small  boy  is 
appreciated." 

Boston  Gazette: 

"  It  is  thoroughly  amusing,  and,  moreover,  true  to  life." 

Albany  Times-Union : 

"  The  author  has  a  special  talent  for  depicting  the   modern 
American  boy." 

Newark  (NJ.)  Daily  Advertiser: 

"  There  is  plenty  of  action,  and  the  author  has  handled  her 
theme  admirably." 

Boston  Beacon  : 

"  It  is  depicted  with  a  subtlety  of  insight  and  keenness  of 
humor  that  will  delight  readers  young  and  old." 

Newark  (NJ.)  Sunday  Call: 

"  The  book  is  amusing  and  clever." 

Chicago  News : 

"  It  is  a  new  work  of  fiction  for  the  lover  of  boys." 


A  Twentieth  Century  Boy 

By  MARGUERITE  LINTON  GLENTWORTH  ("Gladys  Dudley 
Hamilton").  I2mo.  Cloth.  Illustrated  by  CHARLES  COPE- 
LAND.  Price,  $1.25. 


LEE    AND    SHEPARD,    Publishers 

BOSTON 

4 


V 


